


Summer DCU Prompt Fills!

by TimmyJaybird



Series: DCU Ficlets [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage AU, BDSM, Blindfolds, CIA AU, Clothed Sex, Cop/Badboy AU, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Fluff, High School AU, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mentioned Foursome, Multi, Partner Swapping, Public Sex, Restraints, Semen Kink, Single Dad AU, Spanking, Underage Drinking, Underage simply to be safe for the highschool AU (which is fairly nonsexual), apocalypse au, collar and leash play, spy AU, tattoo artist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 172
Words: 181,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the prompt fills for this summer (May, June, July, & August) that I've posted over on tumblr. Warnings and pairings will be added as they appear.<br/>Each prompt fill will be labeled with the pairing in the title, so it's easy to skip around!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Favorite Toy of the Night (RiddleJokes)

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally only going to post my prompt fills on tumblr...but then I ended up really liking them, and well, I like having all my work collected on AO3. So, here we go with summer prompts!
> 
> First up, the wonderful [caesar-faust](http://caesar-faust.tumblr.com/) prompted me with [this hotter-then-all-hell piece of RiddleJokes fanart](http://ccfaustart.tumblr.com/post/119149224493/i-mean-at-least-you-get-the-gist-of-it-madnizilla#notes).

Eddy could still hear the sirens in the distance, the never ending wail that was Gotham’s courtship call to it’s underbelly’s finest. He could even hear the explosions still, the bursts of ear splitting sound that echoed through out the old buildings, around corner and got into the cracks of the very bones in his body.

He could hear it, but he couldn’t see a damn thing- his vision blocked by one slightly _mad-in-the-head clown_ , and his startling red-tear of a grin. A grin that was currently pressed up against his own mouth, as the Joker backed him against a wall. It was almost unsettling how the man managed to smile and kiss him, all at once.

“Liven up, Edd- _yyyy_.” he cooed, one hand grasping at his tie, holding it taut. “Nothing like the smell of gasoline in the night to get blood _pumping_.” Eddy tilted his head up, trying to get a breath in, and the Joker took advantage, found his pulse point on his neck and sucked on the sensitive skin. He opened his mouth, exhaled, audibly, and the Joker chuckled.

How Eddy had gotten into this mess was fairly simple. You didn’t really turn down the Joker when he asked you out for a night of fun in the city. You really didn’t turn the Joker down when he asked for _anything_. Especially when he showed up with his far-too intimidating sometimes girlfriend and announced that there’d be explosions in the next hour.

All Eddy had to do was help him have a little fun. Easy night, right?

Eddy hadn’t planned on the object of his fun being _him_.

The Joker had his tie open, his jacket shoved off his shoulders, part way down his arms. Eddy couldn’t move, not because the clown was holding him down so tightly, but because his mind simply felt dumbstruck. Not that the Joker hadn’t made the occasional sly, sexual joke at his expense, a comment here and there- but that was it. He was too obsessed with the Bat, too hounded by Harley, that Eddy just assumed they were _jokes_.

He wasn’t sure he had ever been so wrong.

Those gloved hands were working on the buttons of his shirt, the Joker having pulled back, watching his own fingers work, murmuring something to himself. Eddy thought to stop him, shifted a shoulder, and the clown froze, glancing up without moving.

“Gonna play hard to, ah, get, Eddy boy? Because trust me, I know the king of that game. You don’t have his scowl baby.” He grinned, opting to tear the last half of the buttons, Eddy’s chest and stomach exposed to the cool night air suddenly. “Be-ah-sides, dollface, we both know you want this.”

It wasn’t a lie. Eddy had spent plenty of nights thinking about the terrifying clown, with those bright eyes, that jarring smile, the way those sharp, pearly teeth probably felt against his skin. Oh, he’d spent a _lot_ of time on that.

The Joker bunched fabric under his hands, tearing it all down Eddy’s arms, leaving it to fall to the wet concrete. Then Eddy’s back was pressed to the rough brick wall, the Joker pressing up against him, kissing him again. This time, there was less grin, more almost desperate movements of his lips. Eddy whined, wasn’t sure where the sound came from inside him, reached up to throw his arms around the Joker’s neck, to hold tight to him.

There was a chuckle, rumbling from the Joker’s mouth to his own, and then a tongue tracing his lower lip, pressing into his mouth, working to keep him silent. The Joker reached up, pressed one fist against the brick wall, above Eddy’s head, the other gloved hand grabbing his waist for a moment as he worked his thigh between Eddy’s legs, creating a sudden friction that had Eddy choking.

“Now see,” the Joker whispered, pulling back to speak just above Eddy’s lips, “You’re easy to work up, and I rather _like that_. Makes a guy feel _wanted_.” His thumb traced a little circle against Eddy’s skin, before his hand moved down, between them, working to pop open the button to his pants. “Answer a riddle for me, Eddy. If you have enough blood in that sweet _brain_ of yours.” He dragged Eddy’s zipper down, his hand delving down into his pants, hand wrapping around the base of his cock. “What’s pretty and loud and possibly my favorite toy of the night?”

Eddy gasped as the Joker stroked, the feeling of his glove on skin a burst of new sensation, made even better when he pressed his palm over the head of Eddy’s cock, dragged pre-cum down his shaft with his next stroke.

“Could be the explosions,” the Joker reasoned, his voice sing-song like and ever in control. “They’re simply _gorgeous_ , don’t you agree?” He tightened his fist, and Eddy groaned, shifted, the brick dragging against the bear skin of his back. “And definitely loud. But I don’t know if they’re my favorite toy.” He leaned in, pressed his mouth along Eddy’s collar bone, left scarlet smudges in the shape of his lips.

“Maybe the sirens,” he offered, licking his way up to Eddy’s neck, making him squirm more as he never once faltered in his rhythm, Eddy’s cock so hard he was sure he might simply die. “They’re most definitely loud. And they are quite a fun toy.” He grazed his teeth against Eddy’s neck, teasing pressure that had him gasping. “But I don’t think they’re terribly _pretty_.”

He bit down then, nearly breaking the skin, and Eddy howled, threw his head back, knocking against the brick, seeing stars behind his eyes for a moment from the pain. When it settled, there was only the throb in his neck, which the Joker was kissing at, licking at.

“What could it be, Eddy? Do you have any ideas, sugar?” Eddy tried to breathe, tried to remember how and was failing, chest rising and falling rapidly as he gasped for air. His mouth moved and a sound left his throat, an attempt at a word that only had the Joker turning his ear towards him, grinning madly. “Mmm, do speak up little puzzle boy.”

“M-me,” he choked out, and that grin grew, the Joker’s fist tightening around his cock as he stroked faster.

“Bing- _o_!” He moved back up to Eddy’s mouth, kissing him, ravishing him until he was dizzy, the city spinning behind his closed eyes. Eddy clung to him, rocking his hips into his hand, so close that he felt fire up all along his spine, his belly so tight he felt he might snap in two. He locked his arms around the Joker again, gripping at the back of his jacket, wishing he could feel his scarred skin, wondering what it would be like to lick each gash of white and pink that adorned his body.

Eddy moaned into him, pushed into his hand a final time, gasping and trying to cry out as he came, his body shaking. The Joker drank down each sound, not stopping his strokes until Eddy was a near-limp mess, leaning back fully onto the brick wall, feeling wet at the base of his cock, up against his lower belly.

The Joker pulled back, fully form his grasp, taking a step back and smirking at him. He lifted his gloved hand, turning it in the cocktail of pale moonlight, faded streetlight glow, allowing the pearly essence to shine. Eddy flushed over how wet his glove truly was.

“Oh yes,” he breathed, bringing it to his lips and licking up along his palm, over his ring finger, “you’re _definitely_ my favorite toy of the night.”


	2. Let's Talk Partner Swapping (JayDick &TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon asked, "JayDick/TimKon discuss partner swapping". I never turn down my OT4.

“So, question,” Jason started, leaning his head back against the headboard as Dick buried his face into the pillows, the sheet pooling right around the small of his back. “Tim and Kon- who would you rather fuck?”

Next to him, he heard Dick exhaled into the pillows, making a muffled shocked sound, before he rolled onto his side, staring up at Jason. “Who would I rather _what_?”

“You heard me.” Dick gawked at him, openly, and Jason rolled his eyes.

“C’mon Dickie, I’m not an idiot. Would you rather have my opinion first? I’d like to get my hands on Tim.” He raked a hand back through his messy hair- tussled from Dick’s hands tugging on it, through it. “But I know you would too.”

“You’re not being serious, are you?” Jason shrugged a shoulder.

“Why not? They’d be into it.”

“How would you _know_?”

“Well, that one time we-” Dick shook his head, holding his hand up, as if he didn’t need to be reminded about the one time the four of them had nearly destroyed this very room. Dick still wasn’t sure how that whole foursome had _started_ \- just that it had ended fantastically.

“That doesn’t mean they’re interested in just…what, partner swapping?”

“Doesn’t mean they aren’t, either. Worth a shot.”

“You’re into it?” Jason grinned.

“Yeah, I could be.”

“And you’re just not going to ask me if I am?” Jason rolled his eyes and Dick glared at him, before rolling over, _hmmphing_ and clutching at his pillow. Jason watched, before heaving a sigh and sliding down onto the mattress, pressing up along Dick’s back and slipping an arm around him, kissing the back of his neck. Dick squirmed as Jason nuzzled the sensitive skin, his hand splaying on his belly.

“Should I apologize?” he whispered, and Dick rolled his eyes.

“Yes. And to answer your question, I’d take either. But if you’re so into Tim, I’m down with Kon.” Jason started laughing behind him, pressing his forehead between Dick’s shoulder blades.

“I could see the boy of steel fucking you senseless. You are such a bottom, babe.” Dick tried to pull away from him, but Jason’s grip was firm, holding him back against his chest, purposefully sliding his hips along Dick’s ass, making him moan, low in his throat. “Not saying it’s a bad thing.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Mmm, only because you’re a dick.” Dick rolled his ass, squirming again, before he settled back against Jason, rocking his hips back against him once as his lover kissed the nape of his neck again. “Wanna go for round two?”

“Only you would ask me that after that conversation.” Dick glanced back over his shoulder, before letting his head drop down, exposing the side of his neck as Jason pushed himself up on one arm, nipping at it. “You better make up for it.” Jason smirked into his skin.

“You got it babe.”

*

Tim leaned back, Kon’s arm resting on the arm of the couch, behind him. He was settled in his lap, his legs draped over the other arm, a bowl of popcorn settled in his lap.

“Hey,” Tim started, glancing from the movie to look up at his boyfriend. Kon glanced down at him, waiting for him to finish. “So. Uhm. I’ve been thinking about something.”

“Something like…” He grabbed some of the popcorn, glancing back at the movie, feeling Tim shifting slightly.

“Well, that uh…that night a few weeks ago…with Dick and Jay.” He watched as the slightest hint of color rose in Kon’s cheeks, his boyfriend looking away from the movie now to watch him. He didn’t need to ask, the quirk in his brows was enough of a question. “And just that…I dunno. Would you ever wanna do something like that again?”

“Sure.” Had it been anyone else, Tim was sure they might have danced around the answer, but Kon was so…straight forward, it was rather nice. Didn’t have that bred-in ingrained idea that some topics needed to be completely avoided, or touched with such care. “Did you want to?”

Tim exhaled. “Kinda. I mean, yeah. Definitely. But I was…thinking. What if we…” he lifted a hand, swirling one finger in a little circle. “You know, switched. Or something.”

“Switched…”

“Like I fuck Jay and you fuck Dick. Or. Something.” Tim was the one blushing now, furiously, and wanted to crawl over Kon, hide behind the chair. Or better yet, run off to his room in the tower and lock himself in. He was lucky no one else was around, or he’s properly simply throw himself from one of the windows.

He shifted, thinking he would actually move, but Kon reached out with his free hand, rubbing along his thigh, thumb tracing little circles. “You’re into that?”

“I- I could be. I mean. With the right people. I don’t know. This is stupid, I’m sorry.” He raked a hand back through his hair, tugging gently. “Forget I said anything.”

Kon pursed his lips, then, “No. I think I like the idea.” Tim stiffened then, staring up at him. “Would you want it that way?”

“You mean, me and Jay, and you and Dick?” Kon nodded. “Well. I mean, I’d be happy with either. Really. But…I think I want it that way. You’re okay with it?” Kon smiled then.

“Yeah. Dick’s pretty. I seem to have a thing for pretty boys.” He leaned in, kissed Tim’s temple, down to his cheek, before nibbling at his earlobe. Tim laughed openly, squirming, before both of Kon’s arms locked around him, tugging him against his chest.

“I can’t believe you’re so okay with it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I know it’s not like I’m trading you off. I get you back when it’s done. That’s what matters.” Tim smiled, leaning against his chest happily, as Kon reached up to play with some of his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can always check my [Tumblr](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/) to see what sort of prompts I'm accepting!


	3. How Many People Watch You Fly? (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "Possessive Damian over Dick <3". There uh, was really no way to turn that down. At. All.  
> (Dami is aged up, you'll find his age mentioned in the work. But it's legal.)

He planted his hands on Dick’s shoulders, effectively shoving him back a few steps, against the brick wall of the old apartment complex. Located in the Narrows, it was due to be torn down in the coming few weeks as this section of the city was rebuilt.

Dick gave a little grunt, his shoulders hitting the surface first, head jerking back and nearly smacking the bricks. Damian was there, a second later, pressed up against him, one thigh pressing between his legs, up against his groin. He slammed his arms against the wall, pinning Dick with his body- and god, when did Damian get this big? Didn’t matter that Dick had watched him grow, it was still hard to fathom that he had height on him now, could hold him down like this.

Damian didn’t say anything, was studying Dick from behind his mask, his thigh creating a sweet sort of friction as he moved that left Dick panting. Damian clicked his tongue. “You shouldn’t forget your cup,” he chided. “You never know what you might run into, Grayson.”

He rubbed against him again, and Dick pushed against his thigh, loving the way Damian’s lips quirked into a little smirk. Loving the way his tanned face looked in the foggy moonlight.

He watched Dick suck his own lip into his mouth, worrying it, and Damian leaned in, pressing his mouth along his jawline. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to ambush him like this, when they were supposed to be on Patrol- when his father had specifically left a chunk of the city under their watch. But it was too tempting, Dick looked too good when he flung himself from rooftops without a care. Besides- the night was quiet, dull. And Damian was _bored_.

And when he was bored, Dick looked even better.

“You’re pretty when you’re _flying_ , Grayson,” he breathed, liking the way he could feel the man nearly rutting against his thigh now. He nudged his chin up, sucking just below on the sensitive skin, hearing Dick whine. He damned his suit for a moment, wanted access to all of his neck. He loved it when Dick left him covered in those little love-bruises, loved when he could do the same.

Little marks of ownership were possibly Damian’s favorite thing.

One arm moved from the wall, his hand falling to Dick’s hips, changing the rhythm he was grinding to, hearing his breath rush out. “Like this,” he whispered, forcing him to move slower, to slide along his whole thigh. Dick grasped at his cape, hands fisting in it, felt the edges of Damian’s teeth.

“How many people do you think stare up at the sky when you’re flying, Grayson?” Dick swallowed, or tried to, his tongue darting out, running along his lips. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a moan. “Come now Grayson, use your words.”

“I. I-don’t,” he gasped as Damian gripped his hip harder, bruising force in those strong hands. He sucked on his lip again, feeling his belly growing tight. Damian’s mouth was making him dizzy, lips moving back along his jawline, to his ear.

“The whole city watches you, Grayson. Mesmerized.” He pushed his thigh up higher, and Dick gave a little cry, breaking from Damian’s rhythm to rub against him faster, the younger man rocking with him. “It’s a shame they don’t know.”

“Don’t-know what?” Dick panted out, feeling dizzy. Damian smirked, clicking his tongue, before,

“That you belong to me.”

Dick groaned at that, tipping his head back against the brick, hips jerking as his orgasm shook him. He tugged on Damian’s cape, trying to pull him closer, if it were even possible, trying to find something to clutch onto, to keep him standing. Damian kept him pinned, nuzzling his neck as he slowly came down, still panting.

“Patrol’s over,” he whispered, pulling back, completely away from Dick. The older man let go of his hold on his cape, watched Damian _watching him_ \- and god, it seemed almost wrong that at nineteen he was still wearing that Robin costume. Not when he looked like anything but a kid. “Meet me back at the Manor.”

“Bruce-”

“Father can come to me if he has a problem with our ending early. Now. Come on, I’m not done with you yet.” Dick stared at him for a minute, before he pushed himself from against the wall, his legs feeling shaky beneath him. He could feel the wetness settling along his groin, was thankfully the suit was dark and it hadn’t seeped through- but knew he’d be uncomfortable the entire trip back to the Cave.

Damian was counting on it. Was planning on Dick needing to strip even more quickly of that suit. Oh, he had calculated it down to the very motions of Dick’s fingers fumbling to get it off as quickly as possible.

He couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can always check my [Tumblr](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/) to see what sort of prompts I'm accepting!


	4. Highschool AU (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aboslutely fantastic [thewonderboys](http://thewonderboys.tumblr.com/) prompted, "10. Jaytim *no ragrets*" Typically I don't do highschool AUs, but I saw the opportunity to super cutesy fluff and took it.  
> (10 refers to a list of AU prompts, being "highschool popular kid/nerd au".)

Tim stuck his head into his locker, rummaging around for his math book, awkward balancing his science text book in one arm, piled on top of it a few of the latest _Superman_ comics he’d brought from home, to inevitably read when he finished his assignments early.

He had his hand around it when suddenly his books were roughly shoved down from his arm, sprawling all over the floor. Tim glanced out, came eye to chest level with one of the larger seniors who had taken to pushing the little sophomore around as of late. Tim grimaced as the guy grinned, leaning down to grasp the color of his tshirt, tugging, stretching it out.

“Whatcha got there kid?” he asked, toying at the comic books, before turning Tim and pushing him against the lockers. Around him, a few of his hulking friends stood, cheering their ring leader on.

Tim was used to this. It was becoming an almost daily occurrence, if he wasn’t careful. Slammed against lockers, into walls, his shoulder blades had the bruises to prove it. If anything, he was most upset in that moment about his comics on the floor. He didn’t want them to get stepped on. Should have left them in his bag, he was sure. 

He got a single, albeit slow, punch just under his ribs, that knocked the wind out of him, was ready for a second when there was a loud “hey!” from down the hallway. The hulking kid stopped, glancing over his shoulder. Tim tried to peer over him, but couldn’t, was too small. A moment later though, the voice was saying, “Let the kid go.”

“Why? Shrimp like this are fun to mess with?” Tim swallowed, felt the kid’s grip tighten on his tshirt collar. He watched as someone pushed through the guys’ friends, and goddamn he had to be imaging things.

Jason Todd. Easily one of the most liked kids in the school. Easily. With his pretty eyes and that nearly white streak in his hair, who couldn’t love to at least look at him? And a senior to boot. Made him seem so much older, so much _cooler_.

“Go mess with each other,” Jason said, off handedly, grabbing the guy’s wrist and tugging, forcing him to release Tim. Tim stumbled, sprawling out down on the floor with a thud, as Jason slipped between him and the bullies. “I hear the locker room is empty right about now.”

“Pfffft.” The biggest guy gave Jason a gentle shove, and Tim barely blinked, nearly missed the fist Jason made, and how it connected with the kid’s stomach. He stumbled back, and Jason kept his fist tight.

“Get,” he said, jerking his head. “I’m not afraid to beat the shit outta you and get a few days off. Suspension isn’t that bad.” He grinned, and the guys looked at each other, before turning, leaving the scene. The hallway had grown quiet, everyone watching, and Jason opened his fist, turning it into a little wave. “Nothing going on here guys, keep a move on.”

And like magic, Tim watched as people looked away, continued moving. He stared, couldn’t believe the control Jason seemed to have over everyone. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when Jason turned, crouching down to get at Tim’s level. “You okay?” Tim nodded.

“Yeah. Uh. Thanks.” Jason smiled, reaching out to gather up his comic books, spilled all around them. Tim grabbed at his science text book.

“Tim right?” Tim gawked openly for a minute, before nodding. How the hell did Jason Todd know his name? “These all yours?”

“Yeah,” Tim admitted, “I uh. I read them already, but I like to read each issue a few times. Always find something new.” He blushed, realized how horribly _nerdy_ that sounded, and pinched his lips together, vowing to stop speaking.

“Yeah? Sounds like a good plan.” Jason openly flipped through one. “Superman seems pretty cool. I haven’t read a lot.” He straightened up, clutching them all in one arm and extending a hand down to Tim, helping to pull him up. Tim balance cautiously, felt like he might tip right into Jason. “Maybe sometime you can walk me through some of it?”

“Really?” Tim realized he sounded overly excited, and also that he had broken his vow to not speak. Damn.

“Yeah. How about after school? If you’re free?” Tim nodded, stupidly, couldn’t believe that Jason Todd was even still talking to him- was asking to hang out with him after school. Wanted to talk about _Superman_ with him. Was he dreaming? “Great.” Jason handed him the comics back. “I’ll see you then.”

Tim watched him walk off, completely forgetting for a moment that he had a glass to get to.

*

Tim clutched his bag over one shoulder was he hurried through the halls, wanting to get outside, worried that with each passing second Jason might not be there. Might decide it would be boring to hang out with Tim. Might decide that Tim wasn’t coming.

Not that Tim was even running late. He was just nervous like that. Though he couldn’t explain why- except that Jason was popular and he was a nerd with a streak for being slammed against lockers, and Jason had those pretty eyes and that bad boy sort of smile that made Tim feel like he was made of butterflies.

Uh-oh, better not think about that.

Tim burst out the doors with a flood of students, found Jason across the parking lot, talking with a group of people. Tim took a deep breath, started walking towards them, wasn’t sure _what_ he’d actually say when he got there but-

He was relieved of those thoughts when Jason glanced up, saw him, and waved. He turned back to the group for a minute, saying something, before waving them off and meeting Tim half way across the parking lot.

“Hey,” Jason said, one hand tugging on the strap of his messenger bag. “Anyone else bother you today?” Tim shook his head, and the older boy cracked a smile. “Cool. So, where do you wanna go?”

“We can go back to my place,” Tim offered, “My mom’s visiting family and my dad works late on Tuesdays.” Jason’s smile grew a little.

“Cool.”

Tim was acutely aware of Jason next to him as they walked. Tim didn’t live that far, only a few blocks away from the school, but it felt like it might take years to walk there, like time was slowing down. He was aware of Jason fishing out a cigarette once they were off school property and lighting it, taking a deep drag before glancing at Tim.

“Want some?” Tim was almost tempted, only because Jason’s mouth had been there- but he shook his head, both to say no and to chase that thought away. Dangerous thing, thoughts like that.

They got to Tim’s and Jason dropped the cigarette butt, stepping on it once, before following Tim up the front steps, inside once Tim had it unlocked. He turned, locking the door, before toeing his Converse off, watching as Jason bent down to unlace his boots.

“You uh, want anything?” Tim asked, feeling a bit nervous suddenly. Jason Todd, in his house? Probably going up to his room? Alone? Definitely had to be a dream. Maybe he’d hit his head against those lockers pretty hard.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks tho.” Tim smiled nervously, before heading for the stairs, Jason following him upstairs. Down the hallway, they stopped at a door with a huge Wonder Woman poster on it, Tim blushing. He pushed the door open, stepping inside and aside to flick on the light as Jason stepped in as well, shutting the door behind him. “Damn,” Jason said, glancing around, eyes taking in the multitude of posters, roving along the bookshelf, filled mostly with comics. 

Jason dropped his bag by the door as Tim walked over to his bed, hopping on and digging through his bag for the comics he’d brought to school. He shoved his bag to the floor, half expected Jason to grab the plush, wheeled chair from his desk and drag it over- but instead, the older boy crawled onto the bed with him, sat right next to him and picked up one of the comics, flipping through it.

“Who’s the chick?” he asked, pointing to a panel.

“That’s Supergirl.” Jason nodded, flipping through a few more pages. Tim watched him, before getting up, heading over to his book shelf and pulling a few graphic novels down. He walked back, handing them to Jason as he settled on the bed. “You’re pretty behind, aren’t you?”

“I saw the movie that came out. Read a few here and there. I don’t really know anything.”

“Try reading that first one.” Jason shrugged a shoulder, and then casually, flopped down on his back on Tim’s bed, opening it and reading. Tim stared for a minute, didn’t entirely know what to do- not that he hadn’t sat around and simply read comics before with friends, but just. Well. None of them had been Jason Todd.

Tim took a breath, grabbing one of the volumes he meant to reread himself, and began reading. It became easy, after a few pages, to focus on the book, because Jason was so _silent_ , the only sounds coming from the pages he flipped.

Tim was actually on his second issue when he felt a hand reaching past his arm, gently grabbing his wrist. “Hey.” He looked up, turning back to glance at Jason, who had the graphic novel resting, open and face down, on his belly. “C’mere.” Tim furrowed his brows, confused, when suddenly Jason tugged gently on his wrist. Tim fell forward, dropping his comic to catch himself, landing with his face just above Jason’s.

The older boy smiled, let go of his wrist to reach up, sink his fingers into Tim’s hair, and tug him down, pressing his mouth right up against his. Tim went tense, the breath in his lungs turning to dust, couldn’t even bring himself to kiss back because _there was no way this was happening_.

Jason let him pull back after a brief moment, looking up at him with those pretty eyes and smiling, even though Tim’s had gone wide. “Wha,” Tim started, and Jason laughed.

“Pretty sure I just kissed you. That’s what.” Tim swallowed.

“Am I dreaming?” Another laugh, and this time Jason’s smile was _huge_.

“Nah. But you are cute as all hell.” Tim blushed more, and Jason twirled some of his hair around his fingers. “If I kiss you again, will you kiss me back?” Tim sucked on his lip for a second, nodded slowly, and Jason was tugging him down again, pressing his mouth against Tim’s slowly. Tim barely knew what he was doing- he’d kissed a few people, mainly his friends because _they were all curious_ , but none of them had kissed like Jason did. Tim moved his mouth, slowly, felt Jason tug on his hair gently-

Then the tip of his tongue tracing Tim’s lower lip. The younger boy gasped, didn’t really know what to do other then let Jason’s tongue into his mouth, making a little noise as it traced over his own. 

Tim could barely breathe, and maybe Jason sensed that, before after a moment he was pulling back, letting Tim suck in a deep breath. Tim gawked at him still, leaning back as Jason sat up, setting the graphic novel aside and reaching up to rub his thumb along Tim’s cheek.

“You’re _really_ cute,” he said again, and Tim blushed more. “And maybe I’m jumping to something here, but you wanna maybe…you know, hang out more?”

“You mean aside of this one time?” Jason laughed, leaning in, kissing Tim’s cheek.

“I mean lots more aside of this one time. I mean maybe you come over this weekend. I’ve got a horror movie collection that’ll knock ya dead. Up for an all nighter with zombies?” Tim sucked on his lip. He wasn’t really a horror movie person but…well. Jason Todd. Enough say. “And maybe I’ll kiss you during them.”

If he wasn’t bought before, he was now.

“You’re okay…you know, kissing me?” Tim whispered, and Jason laughed.

“I like you, kid. You’re cute. I’ve seen you around. Sweetheart on top of it. Yeah, I’m okay kissing you. I’ll kiss you in front of the whole school if you want me to.” Somehow, Tim flushed even darker, and Jason laughed, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a hug. “Okay, okay, you’re going to be an actual cherry if you turn any redder. So yes to this weekend?”

Tim nodded. Yes. _Definitely_.

“Well,” Jason said, leaning back enough to look at Tim, “You wanna go back to reading, or are you up for another kiss?”

This time, Tim took a deep breath and leaned in, kissing Jason before he could even think the answer was anything other than yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can always check my [Tumblr](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/) to see what sort of prompts I'm accepting!


	5. HS AU pt.2 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "Am I allowed to request a continuation of 10. Jaytim because that was the absolute cutest thing I've ever read. Bless" I, of course, was not about to say no!
> 
> Also, to be safe, I've included the underage tag on this collection now. While the highschool AU is going to stay sweet and not go beyond where these boys are now (let me preserve their innocence please), I just want to be safe :)

Tim couldn’t actually believe he was in Jason’s room. Like, he had to be dreaming. Really, there was no way.

The whole week had felt like a dream, like he floated down the hallways. He expected Jason to ignore him, but the boy went out of his way to find him in the hallway, to walk between classes with him when he could. Actually put his arm around his shoulders. One time, Tim had heard him mentioning to one of his friends that Tim was coming over that weekend.

He couldn’t believe he’d admit to openly hanging out with him.

Tim had wanted to appear at Jason’s house first thing in the morning. He’d been awake at seven and had actually gotten out of bed when his father reminded him of the family lunch they had planned with his grandparents- and Tim had begrudgingly gone back to bed to text Jason and let him know he couldn’t come over until later. Not that Jason responded until after ten, when he woke up.

When Tim had finally gotten over the Jason’s, after when turned into a late lunch and then helping his mom with these stupid new lights she wanted for the living room- he had to, she was his ride over to Jason’s anyway- he finally managed to get there. He’d texted Jason and the boy had been waiting outside for him, cigarette in hand. 

Tim was lucky his mom had missed that little detail.

Jason’s parents were gone for the weekend, and they had the house to themselves. Not that they were spending time anywhere but Jason’s room- and, sitting there now, having sat there for about two hours now, Tim could see why. His room was in the basement, way bigger then Tim’s, almost creepy-dark but with just this odd cool aspect. He had the whole freaking basement. All his.

Tim couldn’t get over that.

They had ordered a pizza and Jason had asked Tim about the Superman comics he had borrowed, and Tim had just _talked and talked_. Couldn’t believe that Jason had listened, that he’d asked questions and encouraged him to talk more.

When the pizza was gone though, and the comics that littered the floor half cleared away, mostly shoved into a pile, Jason was throwing himself down on the worn couch- Tim wasn’t over the fact that there was a _couch in his bedroom_ \- sprawling out. Tim stared at him, couldn’t help but think he just looked so comfortable, and sure this was his room and his sweatpants looked like something Tim wanted to crawl into and fall asleep in, but he wasn’t alone. Tim had never been that relaxed around anyone.

“Coming over?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow, and Tim just stared for a minute because, well, where was he supposed to sit? The way Jason was sprawled he’d be touching him no matter _what_ and- “Actually, don’t yet.” Jason got up, walking over to his game system and switching the DVD in it. “Probably put something more comfortable on. We’re gonna be here a while.”

Tim looked over at his bag, discarded by the door, before shuffling over, slipping out of the room and into the little bathroom that was, aside of a cleaning closet, the only other room in the basement. Once safely inside, he took a deep breath, trying to still the butterflies in his belly as they threatened to move up to his throat.

He was so nervous, so sure that Jason was going to change his mind at any point, any second, and ask him to leave. Decide that Tim wasn’t any fun, that he could only listen to talk of comic books for so long.

Tim pulled his shirt off, tossing it into his bag and slipping into a faded Superman shirt, before stripping of his jeans, replacing them with blue cotton pants, the Wonder Woman symbol patterned all over them. In that moment he felt ridiculous, tugged at the hem of the grey shirt. God, he couldn’t go out there like this? He was sure he looked like a kid. Could’ve only been worse if he’d brought that godawful pajama set his grandmother had gotten for him for Christmas, the ones with the cartoon cats all over them. Yeah, then he’d look five.

With a sigh, Tim knew he didn’t have a choice, and slipped out of the bathroom, back into Jason’s room. He dropped his bag and walked around the couch, Jason draped back where he had originally been, controller held loosely in one hand. He glanced at Tim, and for a second Tim was sure he was going to be made fun of-

“’Bout time. C’mere.” Tim stared at him for a second, before looking at what little space was left, then back up at Jason’s face. The older boy furrowed his brow, before smiling, laughing. “C’mon.” He patted the spot between his legs, and Tim felt the color rising in his cheeks. He walked closer, not entirely sure the best way to go about this-

When Jason grabbed his hand, turning him and tugging him down, one arm going around his waist and pulling him back against his chest. Tim gave a little surprised sound, blushing more as Jason squeezed him.

“There, better. Comfy?” Tim shifted, but ultimately nodded, leaning back into Jason’s chest. “Awesome. Hope you’re ready for this.”

Tim was sure he wasn’t.

*

He survived the first movie, even if by glancing towards the corners of the TV at times. Part way through the second he openly jumped though, gasping lightly. Behind him, Jason chuckled, before wrapping both arms around him. “Gotchu,” he whispered, “I won’t let zombies take a bite outta you, okay?” Tim was blushing, nodding, before Jason asked, “You don’t watch these kinds of movies a lot, do you?” Tim shook his head, swore for a second he felt the tip of Jason’s nose brushing along his hair. “Could’ve said something.”

“You like them,” Tim admitted, and Jason laughed.

“You’re too sweet.” One hand reached up, gently gripping Tim’s chin, turning him as far as he could as he leaned over his shoulder. “You know, I haven’t tried to kiss you yet.”

Oh, Tim knew. He _definitely_ knew.

In fact, he was almost worried that Jason hadn’t. Had those kisses in Tim’s room just been a one time thing? Were they just hanging out as friends?

Oh god, what even were they? Tim had no clue.

“I should probably fix that,” Jason mumbled, managing to press his mouth to the corner of Tim’s lips. It was quick, more of a half kiss, but Tim still felt the butterflies in his belly flare up. When Jason pulled back, he was smiling, and Tim wasn’t sure he could breathe. “That okay?” Tim nodded, staring off blankly at the television, not actually seeing anything there. Jason squeezed him again, nuzzling into his shoulder, before, “You know, if you turn around I can _really_ kiss you.”

Tim choked on his breath, squirmed and half turned, and then Jason’s arms weren’t around him, but his hands were on his waist, guiding him. Tim scrambled up, ended up turning and straddling Jason’s thighs as the older boy locked his arms back around him, pulling him in.

He leaned up, pressed his mouth directly to Tim’s, and Tim simply _couldn’t breathe_. He settled his arms on Jason’s shoulders, fingers toys with the ends of his hair, falling into the rhythm of Jason’s kisses. He tried to mirror his lip movements, until he felt the tip of his tongue flick his lower lip. Tim gasped, shook once, and Jason’s arms tightened around him.

“Want me to stop?” he whispered, _right against Tim’s mouth_ , and Tim shook his head. Jason smirked, before nipping at Tim’s lower lip, tugging on it gently. “Sure?” Another nod, and Jason was kissing him again, deeper now, lips sliding too easily, tongue teasing Tim’s lower lip until he opened his mouth.

He gripped at Jason’s hair, tugging gently, heard the older boy groan, felt his hands fisting in his tshirt. Tim shivered, tried to push back into the kiss, would gain what seemed like a moment where he had control, where maybe he could kiss Jason- and then he was lost again, dizzy as Jason’s mouth fit against his in a way he couldn’t even dream of.

When the older boy finally let him pull back, Tim was panting, couldn’t see straight. Jason smiled, his hands losing their grip on Tim’s tshirt as he stroked up along his sides.

“I really like kissing you,” he admitted, and Tim blushed, for probably the thousandth time that evening.

“R-really?” 

“Yeah. Really.” He leaned in, nosed at Tim’s jawline. “Can you breathe yet?”

Tim nodded, slowly, and then Jason was at his mouth again, taking that away from him.

Tim had never kissed anyone like this, and not for this _long_. It felt like days, like seconds, all at once. They’d stop and Tim would try to breathe, and Jason might glance at the movie for a minute or two, and then he was back, kissing him again, and again, and again.

Tim wasn’t sure when one of his hands started tugging on Jason’s shirt, clutching at it, when the other started pulling on his hair. But the older boy was making these _sounds_ , and they were making Tim feel like something was buzzing inside him.

Jason’s hands were on his hips, and then suddenly his fingers were under the hem of his tshirt, on Tim’s bare skin, and Tim shivered, groaned into the kiss without realizing it. He felt Jason smile, before he leaned back, finally breaking it, eyeing Tim’s glossy eyes, the flush on his cheeks-

And leaning in, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Okay kid, better derail this train before we get too far from the station.” Tim furrowed his brow, felt Jason’s hands sliding from under his tshirt, back to his hips, resting gently.

“Why?” Tim wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, and Jason just smiled so damn sweetly.

“Because I like you. A lot. Let’s not mess that up yet, okay?” Tim sucked on his lower lip, nodding, and Jason tugged him down, so Tim crashed into his chest with a startled cry. “Besides,” he started, hugging Tim tightly, “You’re about as fun to cuddle as you are to kiss.”

Tim nuzzled into Jason’s chest, couldn’t help it, sighing as he closed his eyes, blocking out the television and only seeing the slight flash of lights behind his eyes. A moment later, and he heard Jason exclaim,

“Damn, we missed the best part!” He stretched, reaching for his controller, and Tim heard the sound stop for a second, before starting over. He giggled without looking up, keeping his eyes closed, deciding this was the perfect way to watch these movies.

With his eyes closed, his face in Jason’s chest, and the boy’s hands rubbing along his back. Yes, definitely the perfect way.


	6. Puppy Dog Eyes (SuperBat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "Hey! Can I request some superbats? Like Sups is being all affectionate and cute and bats is kinda just like wtf? trying to act like it doesnt affect him because hes so tough and all. Then all at once he just cant take it anymore and yeah"
> 
> I have never read or written SuperBat. I have never even written Kal. But I've been reblogging a lot of it lately and I'm sorta falling for it, so this was a great excuse.

He’d been doing this _all night_.

Little brushes of the hand over Bruce’s arm. Holding onto him a moment too long when he had helped him up after a fall. Pressing his hand too low on Bruce’s back, hidden by the cape, keeping it there.

Possibly, what was the most aggravating was simply the way he was _looking at him_. All big puppy dog eyes, like a lovesick school girls. _Like an openly lovesick schoolgirl_.

Bruce tried to pretend he didn’t know Clark was looking at him that way right then, as he watched the building across the street. He was waiting for the runners to make their way out, so he could tail them across the city. A shipment had come into the harbor recently, a strange cocktail of various chemicals that, mixed with Crane’s recent bust from Arkham, led Bruce to believe Scarecrow was up to his old tricks. He’d gone to scope out the harbor, and had come across and in-process deal for what looked like most of the chemicals.

He could have put a stop to it, but he was more interested in finding Crane _first_. He could confiscate the chemicals after.

He had been doing just _fine_ , when Clark showed up. Unannounced. Like he _wasn’t supposed to_. It was one thing during the daylight hours, if he wanted to pay a visit to _Bruce Wayne_ , but _Batman_ had work to do.

Not that Clark couldn’t be helpful. But his affection was...distracting. Unnecessary, given the circumstances.

Bruce tapped his fingers. They had been inside this building for a good twenty minutes now, yet they had not unloaded any of the chemicals from the van. He could only think they were picking something, or _someone_ , up.

And he would have been fine, waiting all night, except that Clark _was still looking at him like that_.

As if he knew Bruce was thinking about him, Clark leaned in, brushing his nose along Bruce’s jawline, before his cheek followed suit, along Bruce’s. As if he were a _kitten_.

Bruce had _had_ it.

He turned, grabbed the front of Clark’s suit, tugging him in. Meant to tell him off, really, he did. Meant to tell him to high-tail it back to Metropolis if he was going to be nothing but a distraction for the night.

But god _damn_ those eyes. How the hell did Clark look at him like that, like he was the center of the entire city? Maybe it was that, and not the slight color to Clark’s cheeks, not the part along his lips. Maybe it was none of it, but instead of voicing his disdain, Bruce was tugging him closer, the meta’s head cocking and their lips meeting perfectly. It was almost chaste, slow glides of lip, no tongue, no teeth. Clark reached up, fingers running along Bruce’s cowl, where normally they could have slid into his hair, tangled dark locks around those fingers and tugged gently.

Bruce knew the feeling by heart.

When he pulled back, he stared at Clark, the tinge of pink on his cheek bones. The sparkle in his eyes- goddamn did they always do that after they kissed? Bruce wanted to say no, but his memory could pull up countless times they had gotten that same shine after.

“I hate you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead into to press against Clark’s. The other man chuckled, the gentlest curve of his lips, the slightest of smiles, and leaned closer, brushing his nose against Bruce’s.

“I love you too.”

Yeah, he loved him he supposed. Loved him and his puppy dog eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It ended up being sweet and disgusting and honestly candy will rot your teeth slower XD (I love all these idiots being so in love.)


	7. HS AU pt.3 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [whatislifetheanswerisfandoms](http://whatislifetheanswerisfandoms.tumblr.com/) asked: "Can you continue prompt 10, for like, ever?"
> 
> I had no idea everyone would be so into this AU when I filled the first prompt! I needed a break from a longer fic I've been working on, so I decided to add a little bit :3

Tim tapped his pencil against his notebook, staring idly out the window. In the front of his classroom, his teach was blathering on about the equation written on the board- not that Tim cared. He didn’t need someone to teach him this, he’d learned it from skimming through the book.

Besides, there were other things on his mind.

Like the fact that he hadn’t seen Jason yet that day, and he missed him. Sure, he’d gotten a few stray texts, but he knew the boy had his own classes, his own work. Didn’t mean that Tim didn’t miss him stupidly. He was hoping maybe he could meet up with him after school, maybe he’d get Jason to himself for an hour before he had to head home so his parents wouldn’t worry.

As it was, that would be whenever the bell rang, and this horrid math class ended. Tim tapped his pencil again, glanced back and saw a few kids beginning to slide things into their bags. He glanced at the clock. _Five more minutes_.

He glanced back at the teacher, then dared to grab his bag, sliding his math book in. He wanted to bolt the moment the bell rang. He closed his notebook, sliding that in next-

“Do you have somewhere to be, Mr. Drake?” Tim glanced up, saw his teacher was looking at him, holding his cry-erase marker limply in one hand.

“Uh, no,” Tim offered, trying to smile.

“Well good, because our lesson isn’t done yet. Now, if I can have your attention for just a few more minutes.” The man turned back to the board, and Tim frowned, then crammed his calculator in his bag as well. _To hell with it_.

The moment the bell rang he was out of his seat, bag thrown over one shoulder, rushing into the hallway. He had pulled his phone from his pocket, walking quickly towards his locker while he attempt to type to Jason _I wanna see you_.

He had just hit send when he walked right into someone. 

Tim bounced back slightly, a hand reaching out to grab his arm, pulling him in, and suddenly he was pressed against Jason’s chest, the older boy leaning against Tim’s locker. “Woah there, eyes on the road kid.” Tim glanced up, blushing, and Jason grinned at him. A second later, and they both heard Jason’s phone vibrating in his pocket.

“That’d uh, be me,” Tim admitted, and Jason ruffled his hair, slipping from between Tim and his locker to pull out his phone anyway. Tim opened his locker, tossing a book in and grabbing a binder, having just situated his bag back on his back when Jason was leaning in, closing it for him.

“Hungry?” he asked, and Tim glanced up at him. “I mean, you know. If you’re not busy. I’m starving.”

“Uh, sure.” Tim went to stuff his hands in his pockets, but Jason was taking one, lacing their fingers together, and guiding him through the hallway. _Openly holding his hand_.

Tim’s heart was soaring.

They walked the few blocks from the school, opposite the direction to Tim’s house, towards downtown. Jason was asking Tim about another comic he had left him that weekend, after their little zombie movie marathon, and Tim couldn’t help but launch right into a rant about it, his own theories about the story line.

He only stopped when Jason tugged him towards a little burger joint, guiding him towards one of the little tables outside. “Hold this for us,” he said, “I’ll get us something to eat.”

Tim didn’t get the chance to say anything else, because Jason was heading inside. He plopped down on the bench of the table, setting his bag down and tugging his phone out, thinking he’d better text his mom, let her know he wouldn’t be home right away. _Went out with a friend_ he sent her, and a moment got back,

_I hope she’s cute!_

Tim rolled his eyes, thinking if she had just switched the pronoun, she’d be spot on. Jason was cute. Hell, he was the stuff teen-drama heart throbs were made of, if Tim was honest.

And he could be honest with himself.

Jason came back out a few minutes later, balancing a plastic red tray on one hand playfully, two hands of Sprite held in the other. He slid in opposite Tim, set the tray down- holding a Styrofoam container piled high with fries that looked like they had been, quiet literally, bathed in cheese.

Tim was going to be the last to complain about this.

“Ever been here?” Jason asked, passing Tim a soda can, who shook his head, opening up. Jason grabbed a fry, and Tim watched it bend under the weight of the cheese. “Oh god, you’re going to die and go to heaven. Trust me.” Tim grabbed a few fries, cramming them in his mouth, and a second later decided that Jason was absolutely right.

Alright. So he was ridiculously hot, he was actually _nice_ and _interested_ in Tim, he kissed like the devil- and now he had decent taste in food. Tim wasn’t sure how much more his heart could handle.

They talked on and off while they ate. Mostly, they watched people bustling by, and Tim wasn’t against the silence. He didn’t feel uncomfortable with Jason even if they weren’t talking. He just liked being around him.

He liked it even more when, at one point, Jason stuck his leg out, foot brushing along the back of Tim’s ankle.

When they were done Jason gathered up the tray, Tim following him and downing the last of his soda before tossing it all away. Jason wrapped an arm around Tim’s shoulders, let them get all of two steps away, before he was leaning in, kissing the corner of his mouth. Tim turned towards him, and Jason took it as an invitation- which, Tim was sure it never _wouldn’t_ be one- kissing his mouth. Tim tasted like his soda, lemon-lime, and, if Tim could read Jason’s thoughts, he’d know the boy thought he was just as teeth-rottingly sweet.

It was quick, and then they were walking again, Tim resisting the urge to reach up and touch his lips. He glanced around them as they crossed the street, couldn’t believe that Jason had kissed him in public like that. Someone could _see_. Someone _from school_ could see.

“Wanna come over?” Jason was asking, as they headed back towards the school. 

“Uhm,” Tim started, reaching up to play with the strap of his bag, “I’d like to, but I probably can’t. My mom’s not big on me doing anything on a school night last night.” He blushed a little, embarrassed and feeling like a kid pulling the whole _mommy won’t let me card_ -

“It’s cool. I get it.” Jason squeezed him. “Can I walk you home?” Tim nodded, walking in-step with Jason and wondering when that had happened.

When they got to Tim’s house they stopped at the little walkway to the front porch, Tim turning, glancing up at Jason.

“Uhm, thanks,” he said, not really sure what to say. Jason smiled at him, reaching out and ruffling his hair. Tim wasn’t sure- was that a date? Was it getting food with his friend?

What even were he and Jason?

“Anytime cutie,” Jason said, before he leaned in, kissing Tim right on the mouth again. Tim kissed back without thinking, leaning into it, closer to Jason, before the older boy was pulling away, giving his hair another ruffle. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me?”

Tim nodded, stammered, “y-yeah,” and watched him turn, heading off to do Tim really wasn’t sure what. Was Jason going home? Going somewhere else? He really didn’t know what he did with himself outside of school, or the few precious hours Tim had managed to spend with him.

He waited until Jason was part way down the street, before he turned, heading up towards the house- and seeing his mother standing in the open doorway, arms folded. Tim felt color rising to his cheeks, and he bounded up the stairs, slipping in past her.

“Who was that?” she asked as Tim slipped his Converse off.

“Uh. A friend.” He really didn’t have a better answer then that. He didn’t know himself.

Tim started up the stairs, wanting to lock himself away in his room- _oh god had she seen Jason kiss him, was he ready to explain that?_ \- when he heard her say,

“Well, he sure was cute.”

Tim stopped for a second, remembered her text, then looked back at her. She had moved her hands to her hips, was grinning at him, and Tim could only blush, turning and taking the steps two at a time to get to his room.

Well, that could have gone worse, he was sure.


	8. Silly Faces (BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "I was looking through your posts like the true stalker i am. And I came across the airport aus. Soo.. If you're looking for a prompt.. "you fell asleep and i started making funny faces at your kid to keep them amused and the steward mistook us for a couple" With Bruce and Damian being the Dad and son. And say Dick being the one making faces?"
> 
> I live to write tiny child Damian being super adorable and daddy Bruce, so this was just. A dream.

The flight was a good three hours long, and Dick was finally settled, after forty five minutes, with his headphones in, his travel bag thrown on the window seat next to him. Whoever had booked the seat next to him had obviously had a change of heart- or shit luck- but he didn’t mind. He liked the space. And he preferred the aisle- too much sky-watching made him dizzy and a little anxious.

He scrolled through his phone, looking for something to listen to, when he heard a little next to him. Glancing over, he saw there was a large stuffed animal sitting on the aisle floor, and across from him, a little child staring at it with wide eyes.

The kid had to be, what, three? Dick was a bad judge of age, but without much thought he pulled his earphones out and set his phone aside, getting up and picking up the stuffed animal- it was ridiculously round but very fluffy, black- and when he turned it and saw it’s face and tiny little wing like arms, realized it was a caricature of a bat.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to the little boy. Next to him was, Dick assumed, his father, who was leaned slightly into the side of his chair, sleeping soundly. The kid snatched the toy up, glancing up at Dick, then back at it, before wrapping his little arms around it and clutching it tightly.

Dick smiled, going back to his seat and settling in, thinking maybe he’d actually watch the in-flight movie instead. He was playing with the options on his little screen, set into the chair in front of him, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a little movement. He turned, and the little kid across the aisle had set his stuffed bat next to him in his seat, was gripping onto the handle of his chair and leaning over it, watching Dick.

Dick smiled at him, gave him a little wave, and carefully, the little boy lifted his hand, mimicking. Dick’s smile grew, and that little serious pout quirked up a little. Unable to stop himself, Dick squinted, sticking his tongue out-

And the boy started giggling.

He reached up, covering his mouth with his little hands, and Dick reached up, hooking his fingers in his cheeks and tugging, attempting to go cross eyed. The giggles grew louder, even through his little hands, and Dick realized he was laughing himself.

Suddenly the little boy pulled his hands away, lifting them up and holding them up behind his head, as if he was giving himself antlers, or even wings like his bat. Dick grinned, scrunching his lips to one side and mimicking him.

This time the laughter was so loud that a few passengers actually turned to look- thankfully, in delight as the child was surprisingly happy.

He clapped his hands, the noise rousing his father next to him, who stirred, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes with one hand. Dick leaned back into his chair, just smiling now- and the boy returned it, before he father was looking at him.

“What are you doing Damian?” he asked, rather fondly, and the little boy looked back at him.

“He’s being so good,” a stewardess mentioned, as she walked back, smiling at the boy, and then his father. “Your partner has such a way with him!” The man eyed her, confused, and Dick felt color rising in his cheeks. He was about to correct her, but she was moving down the plane already, and he was left to look across the aisle at the boy’s father. 

“Uh, hi,” Dick offered, “He, uh, dropped his toy. Sorry, I guess we got carried away a little.” He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Dick.”

“Bruce,” the man offered, with a smile. “And this is Damian.” Dick smiled, turning back to the boy, who was clutching his stuffed bat again.

“Well hey there little D,” he offered, and the boy peeked up over the toy, a smile suddenly appearing on his face. He slid out of his chair before Bruce could stop him, and crossed the aisle, climbing up onto Dick’s lap and settling right in. Dick froze for a second, glancing down at him.

“Damian!” Bruce started, moving to stand up. “I’m sorry. Normally he’s not…very sociable.”

“He’s fine,” Dick finally set, wrapping an arm around the boy. “I like your bat little D. He’s cool. Does he have a name?” The boy shook his head, before leaning into Dick’s chest, as if trying to hide from him. Dick looked back at Bruce. “He’s gotta be the cutest kid ever.”

“He takes after his mother in that respect then,” Bruce said.

“Well I mean, don’t talk down about yourself in that respect.” Dick realized, a moment too late, what he’d said, and quickly added, “So where is she? Not sitting with you guys?”

“Oh, we’re not together. She’s out of country. We’re heading home from a visit.” Dick swallowed, feeling awkward. At least Bruce was friendly about it all.

As if to the rescue, Damian lifted his head, yawning, and Dick have him a squeeze. “That was a big yawn dude,” he offered, and Bruce was up, stepping into the aisle and carefully lifting the boy up, holding him against his chest.

“Someone definitely needs a nap,” Bruce said, “in fact, I can name two people that do.” He glanced down at Dick, offering him a rather dazzling smile, and Dick felt his gut twisting a little. “Thank you for entertaining him.”

“Hey, anytime,” he offered, trying to straighten his open jacket. Bruce hesitated a moment, then,

“Do you have a connecting flight in Gotham?”

“Nah, it’s home sweet home for me.” Bruce nodded, then gave Dick a little smile.

“Maybe, if you’re not too jet lagged, you might want to get something to eat? I mean, I owe you for keeping this little demon smiling.” As if to show he was kidding, he gave Damian a squeeze, and the boy nestled closer to his father, nearly asleep. Dick felt heat rising to his cheeks.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that! I really didn’t do anything!”

“I’d like to,” Bruce offered, and Dick gave a nervous smile.

“Well, uhm, sure then. If you’re really sure.” Bruce nodded, gave him one more smile, and then moved back into his own seat, keeping Damian on his lap as the boy napped and leaning his own head back, closing his eyes.

Dick watched for a minute, before turning back to the screen he’d been fiddling with, scrolling through the movie options again. He wondered which one was closest the length of remaining flight time, so he’d know when exactly to get those nervous butterflies.

Not that they weren’t already flaring up.


	9. Arranged Marriage (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Bahahahahah that engagement Au "our parents are forcing us into an arranged marriage and we hate each other but now i’m in love with you and i don’t think it’s mutual" With Tim and Damian"

He was insufferable, Damian had been saying so since day one- since he had met Tim, after his father had told him about the arrangement. Good for _business_ , this wedding. Good to show that Damian actually had a heart- especially if he was going to take over the company one day. And Tim came from a smart family, a good standing one- not as wealthy, sure, but they were so well liked in Gotham.

Funny that Tim had needed to be handed off _just as badly_ as Damian had.

Damian missed living in the Manor. The Penthouse they shared now, in Gotham Heights, it was large, sure, but there was something so sweet about the removal from the world the Manor offered. But again- good to be seen in the city, in the daylight.

Public images had to be kept up.

Damian tapped his fingers on the table, his morning coffee sitting in front of him. He would stroll in later, to the office, as he did every Tuesday- because his father seemed to think it was important he have at least one morning where he could _spend time_ with his husband. They had been married about a month now, and Damian had yet to spend this morning doing anything except reading on his tablet, or losing himself in a book.

He reached for his coffee, took a sip, as Tim walked into the kitchen. His hair was wet, his shirt still open, a rather large slice of skin from collar bone to the hem of his jeans exposed. He didn’t even look at Damian as he poured himself a cup of coffee, moving to the fridge to pick a flavor creamer for today.

Damian knew Tim would go with Hazelnut, and watched as he pulled it out, poured some in. Damian knew because he had watched his selection so many mornings, and only when Tim was feeling strangely relaxed did he ever pick anything else, did he ever deviate from the routine.

Damian had only seen it a handful of times- and only in the evening, when he came home and hadn’t seen his husband since the night prior, having missed him in the morning. Only when he could spent that much time away from Damian.

“Good morning,” Damian finally offered, and Tim glanced at him, before sitting down at the table, sipping his coffee silently. Damian could see naked fingers wrapped around the mug- his wedding ring absent. He knew Tim only wore it when they went out.

Damian did too.

Or, originally, he had. It sat on his finger now, but he could always say it was because he would be leaving soon.

Tim closed his eyes as he took another sip of coffee, and Damian took the moment to study his face, those high set cheek bones and the dusting of dark hair that always fell against them, even when he pulled his hair back into a little ponytail. Damian had seen it, a few times, when Tim was cleaning. He’d teased him the first time, but the last time- he’d stared at the nape of his neck, had thought about what it might be like to kiss him there.

If Damian was honest, maybe Tim wasn’t as insufferable as he first thought.

“Are you leaving soon?” Tim asked, and Damian set his tablet aside, nodding. He finished his coffee, and stood up, Tim continuing, “Alright. I’m visiting my parents for dinner later. Don’t wait up.”

“Sure,” Damian offered, straightening his tie. He set his mug in the sink, turned for a moment to glance at Tim, who had pulled his phone out now, was checking his emails. He had his own public appearances to make, all the time- far more often then Damian actually did, and he was sure his husband was triple checking to make sure he hadn’t miss a single appointment.

Damian didn’t know much about him, even after a month. He knew the basics, his family history- and the few things he could pick up, like his coffee preference, like that fact that if they ever went out to dinner, without fail Tim would need pepper on just about anything he was eating.

But he didn’t know the haze of his eyes in the morning, didn’t know what it was like to kiss him for more then a brief second, in front of a crowd. They had kissed once, on their wedding night, both still feeling the effects of the champagne from the reception. And Tim had pulled away and left Damian alone in the master bedroom- had never kissed him since.

Damian slept alone in that room, always had. Tim took up in the room down the hall, and neither had ever spoken about it. Damian had, at first, been rather enthused about having his own space, not needing to share with someone he did not know, someone he found annoying and uncultured. But now, he couldn’t help but wonder if, some night, Tim might follow him to his doorway, might slide into bed with him.

Damian blamed being forced into close quarters with the man, the fact that he wasn’t unattractive, the fact that neither could now openly date as they saw fit. Yes, blamed all that on the curiosity he housed over Tim and his body.

But the strange urge to just spend time with him? Whenever that had begun to grow, he could not pinpoint. Wasn’t really sure he wanted to. All he knew now was that he was staring at Tim, at the way his eyelashes fluttered against his skin when he blinked, at the soft pink of his lips, the soft wisps of hair. Staring, and wanting to kiss his cheek, to actually have some sort of affection given for once.

“Do not forget we have dinner with father tomorrow evening,” he said, instead. Tim glanced over at him, then nodded.

“’Kay. I won’t.” He stood up, taking his coffee and his phone to the other room- no goodbye, no acknowledgement at all, and Damian sighed, reaching up the rake a hand back through his hair.

He almost wished he could have kept up the apathy, the slight hatred for this man. It would have made it easier, coexisting and not interacting. Instead, he was stuck with this strange urge to actually get to know him, to actually spend time with Tim. He was stuck with a curiosity and a slow boiling of almost-affection that made this life all the more complicated.

Especially considering, as far as he was concerned, Tim hated him even more then he had on their wedding day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am actually really into this, and kinda hoping I get another prompt for it over on tumblr eventually.


	10. Cop/Badboy AU (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked, "Brooo. Badboy Tod giving Cop Grayson a blowjob in the public toilets"
> 
> I wanted to do a capeless AU instead of just officer Grayson, and boy, I might be hooked.

“Nnnnn,” Dick whined, through gritted teeth, his hands gripping at the open doorway of the bathroom stale. Jason glanced up at him, cock half way buried in his mouth, his hand wrapped around the base, stroking with each bob of his head. His nearly smirked, if his lips had been able to, at the flush that had over taken Dick’s cheeks, at the part in his pretty mouth, which was wet and kiss swollen, thanks to Jason.

“Feel good pretty boy?” Jason asked, pulling off his cock and letting his hand take over. Dick gave a groan.

“Someone-”

“Could walk in? Isn’t that the _fun_ of it?” Jason smirked, glanced at the closed doorway to the bathroom. He didn’t expect it would open, the park was technically closed now, it was damn near eleven at night. Only the city’s underbelly came out now, in the shadows.

Which was why Jason had been there, had a guy he met every other week and sold to. A pretty hefty payment, too.

He hadn’t expected to run into the pretty cop, however. Thankfully, after the deal had gone down. Last thing he needed were his customers getting the scare. Then, he’d be pissed.

As it was now, he was simply _bemused_.

He leaned back in, swallowing Dick’s cock down again, and the other man tipped his head back, hat falling off his head, clattering softly to the floor. He let out a loud moan, and Jason felt his own cock twitch in his jeans. He couldn’t help but wonder just how loud Dick could get.

His other hand reached up, running along Dick’s hip, over his bulky belt, the holster of his gun. He felt Dick tense, and kept his hand moving, down to his thigh- felt him relax again. So, he wasn’t entirely unaware of everything except Jason’s mouth- good to know, for future reference.

Jason fully intended for there to be a future with this, now that he’d finally gotten the pretty cop to bend a little.

“Fuck,” Dick whimpered, and Jason pulled off, letting his hand twist around the head of Dick’s cock, getting another moan.

“You close, pretty boy?” Dick gave a nod, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Jason grinned. “You wanna come in my mouth?”

The strangled noise that came from Dick was possibly the most obscene think Jason had ever heard.

“Mm, that’s what I thought.” He leaned back in, lapping at the head, tasting salt, before he sucked him in again. Dick bucked into his mouth, and Jason let him, held down the urge to gag- had gotten good at that, over the years. Dick was panting, each breath bringing little sounds that were pure music to Jason’s ears.

This guy had no right being this attractive. Jason was sure of it.

“I-” Dick started, and Jason could only think _how darling_ that he was thinking to warn him, and moved faster, cutting off the rest of Dick’s words. Dick gave a loud groan, before he came over Jason’s tongue, who swallowed it down, until Dick had nothing left and was going lax. Jason pulled off, felt the man’s thighs shake a little, and stood up, reaching out and gripping his chin with one hand.

“You’re a filthy thing,” Jason teased, rubbing his thumb over Dick’s lower lip. “You didn’t even really try to put up a fight for that, did ya?” He leaned in, nipped at his lower lip, sucked it into his mouth, before dragging his tongue along the seam of Dick’s mouth.

He hadn’t expected the man to follow when he tried to lean back, to kiss him, suck on Jason’s bitter tongue, hands leaving their white-knuckle hold on the stall doorway to grasp around Jason’s neck, at the back of his worn leather jacket. Jason gave a little groan, hands reaching down to tuck Dick away again, to zip his pants back up.

He would have loved to see just how far he could get this pretty boy to go, truly. But he had an appointment at the other side of the city, and if he didn’t leave then, he’d be more then casually-Todd-late, and that was bad for business.

“We’ll have to do this again,” Jason whispered, pulling back and offering Dick a wink. He freed himself from Dick’s hold, bent down to pick up his hat, and settled it on his own head, tugging it down by the brim. “Hmm, good look or no?”

Dick’s cheeks flushed and he reached for the hat, taking it from his head and settling it back on his own, before he reached down, tried to straighten his tie. He didn’t have an answer, and Jason was sure it was because he really _did_ want to do this again- possibly just as much as Jason did- but oh, those moral hang ups. The fact that he was on the clock, the fact that it was damn well public knowledge Jason was always wrist deep in something shady.

He was sure come morning, or hell, twenty minutes, the pretty cop would be having a bit of a breakdown over the whole ordeal. And that was fine too, maybe he’d be feisty the next time Jason ran into him. That could be _fun_.

“Well, duty calls,” Jason offered, leaning in and tapping the brim of Dick’s hat. “I’ll see you around, dollface.” He winked, then turned, knew Dick was watching him as he walked out the bathroom door, into the crisp Gotham night. He inhaled sharply, needed a cigarette after that, but knew he’d have to wait until he was across the city.

Last time he’d tried to smoke on his bike, he’d damn near wrecked the thing. And his night was going too damn well to throw it off with something like that.


	11. Arranged Marriage AU pt2 (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Can I pretty please ask for a extension on my engagement fic au? Damian keeps trying to hint that he is falling for Tim but Tim keeps brushing it off. Damian gets more and more frustrated and less and less subtle. Honesty I don't mind if they get together or not. I just love Damian showing his nice emotions"
> 
> I really like this AU? So here we are.

Damian stared at him, sitting curled up in his chair, eyes stuck on the book in his hands. Outside, there was the gentle sound of evening rain, hitting their windows softly, the city’s night traffic a low buzz beneath it.

Damian had his tablet in his lap, but hadn’t looked at it in, what, five minutes now? It was hard, when Tim looked so…well, good, just sitting there. He’d looked good the moment he had walked in the door, about a half hour after Damian that evening, from an early dinner with the Mayor, which Damian had been unable to attend with him, due to a board meeting.

There was something about Tim in his yoga pants- oh, Damian could have gone off on a mental rant about _those alone_ \- and his off the shoulder tshirt that looked even better then when he dressed up. And with his hair free, brushing those pretty cheeks, Damian just wanted to have him crawl onto his lap, to feel how utterly soft he had to be.

Each day was simply getting worse. Each day Damian felt his blooming attraction for his husband growing, to the point now that he _simply stared_ because it was impossible to tear his eyes away. Because Tim was pretty, and Damian couldn’t believe he had failed to realize it before now.

What was worse, he had found himself actually listening to him that morning. Over the rush of getting their morning coffee, getting dressed, their paths inevitably crossing, Tim had mentioned something offhand about the book he held in his hands now, and Damian had asked him about it, had stood in the kitchen and sipped his coffee while his husband just talked.

And yeah, had Tim tried to talk to him in the first two weeks after their wedding, Damian would’ve given him a curt _shut up_ and walked away. He wasn’t sure he cared for the change- especially as Tim hadn’t otherwise warmed up to him in the slightest. He’d still removed his wedding band the moment he was in the door, and aside of a few words had said nothing to him that evening.

“You’re staring.”

Damian came to, realized Tim was looking at him, book open, now resting in his lap. He felt heat rising in his cheeks- told himself the room’s temperature was simply off, the rain must have made it cold and perhaps Tim had messed with the heat and over compensated

“Sorry,” he admitted, “I was simply lost in thought.” He looked back at his tablet, and Tim raised a delicate eyebrow, before turning back to his book. Silently, Damian cursed himself for being caught. He was finding it harder and harder to be subtle around Tim- but couldn’t bring himself to simply say anything about it to the man. They had gotten off to too much of a rocky start- and Damian could admit to himself that, in the beginning when Tim had tried to at least be friendly, he had been rather cruel.

Burned that bridge early.

Still, he had been going downhill, and fast, in the past week it seemed. They had had dinner with his father about five days ago, and Damian had perhaps held Tim’s hand more then he needed to, while walking into and out of the restaurant- perhaps had touched it too much during dinner. Yes, they needed to play the happy couple whenever in public, even if it was for a private, family dinner, but he had noticed Tim glancing at him a few times, as if silently accusing him of something- as if seeing that perhaps Damian wasn’t as in control as he liked to seem.

Damian glanced up again, caught Tim shifting in his chair, settling his book down to reach his arms up and stretch, a yawn on his pretty lips. Damian swallowed, opening one of his emails without even looking. Tim glanced down at his book, as if debating something, before he closed it, and stood up.

“Going to bed?” Damian asked. It was nearing eleven, he realized. Tim nodded, reaching back to rub at his neck.

“Yeah. I didn’t sleep well last night,” he admitted, his hand moving to the curve of his shoulder. Damian frowned.

“Are you alright?” Tim quirked up an eyebrow at his concern, and Damian was sure he was doubting it.

“I probably just slept on something wrong. I’ll be fine.” He gathered up his book, walking past where Damian sat on the couch, and before the rational part of Damian’s mind could stop him, he was reaching out, gently grabbing one of Tim’s delicate wrists. His husband stopped, glancing down at the hold, then up at him, frowning. “What?”

“I can help,” he offered, and Tim laughed. He actually laughed.

“Right. Why would you do that?” Tim tugged his wrist free, and Damian frowned.

“Do you want me to or not?” He hadn’t meant for it to sound as harsh as it did, and instantly regretted it the moment he saw Tim’s eyes flash, as if he was going to turn him away- which was, of course, what Damian expected.

“…Fine.” Then, without saying another word, Tim walked from the room. Damian hesitated a moment, before throwing is tablet to the other end of the couch and pushing himself up, quickly following Tim down the long hallway, to his bedroom at the end.

Tim walked in, left the door open, and by the time Damian got there, was sitting on the bed, waiting. Damian hesitated for a minute, before,

“So, where does it hurt?”

“Just my neck and shoulders.” He nodded, eyed the bed for a minute- god, he could count on a single hand the number of times he had been in this room he realized, didn’t even have a good mental picture of what it normally looked like? Was that the same blanket as last time, or had the color changed? Did Tim always have two of the pillows on his side? He could only even tell which side was Tim’s by the fact that that nightstand was far more cluttered, a few books, his phone.

It was the opposite side Damian normally slept on.

Damian walked towards the bed, hesitating another second, in case Tim changed his mind. When he said nothing, he crawled on, settling on his knees behind Tim, the two of them facing the window on the opposite wall. Tim had the curtains drawn, and Damian could see the rain trickling along the glass.

Damian reached up with one hand, brushing his fingers along the dark locks at the base of Tim’s neck. His hair didn’t have any right being as soft as it was- softer even then it looked. Damian inhaled, slowly, pressing his hands against Tim’s neck, so his thumbs could push into the back. The muscle he found was tense, hard, and as he worked his thumbs against it, Tim’s head dropped forward, a little breath escaping him.

Damian could feel his pulse quickening, over just that little sound, that rush of air, and he had to mentally remind himself to inhale, slowly, to keep his hands steady. He moved them off towards the dip in Tim’s shoulders, squeezed the muscle there, and Tim winced, this breath hissing out.

“Sorry,” Damian whispered, noticed Tim’s hands grabbing at the blankets next to him.

“No it’s…it’s okay.” He sounded shocked that he had even gotten an apology. “A good sort of hurt.”

Damian bit his tongue to keep from making a noise over that. Another inhale, and he pressed again, working the kinks from Tim’s shoulders, then moving back to his neck. Slowly, his husband relaxed, keeping his head bowed, until the muscle felt soft, gave no resistance to Damian’s hands.

“That…helped a lot,” Tim whispered, as Damian used a lighter pressure against his neck now, fingers gently teasing the ends of his hair. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Damian offered, leaning in, brushing his nose along Tim’s hair, nearly kissing. Nearly. Tim smelled sweet, his shampoo and cologne mixing into something that made Damian want to press his face into his hair, the crook of his neck, to inhale and have the scent imprinted. Tim shifted, and Damian pulled back, realized what he had done, and could feel the heat rising in his cheeks again. Yes, still definitely the temperature in the apartment being thrown off. “I’ll…let you get to bed.” 

He pulled his hands back to himself, climbing off the bed, walking quickly to the doorway. He was almost out it, when Tim called, “Damian?”

He stopped, glancing back, and Tim was looking directly at him, with those pretty eyes and that angel-face and too-pink mouth.

“…Goodnight.” Damian swallowed, gave a forced half smile.

“Goodnight.” This time when he turned, he did not look back until he was back in their living room, falling onto the couch and covering his face with one arm, allowing his heart to flutter without reason.

Well, there was reason.

That little hesitation, where Tim had simply stared at him. It was reason enough to incite a childish sort of hope in Damian, that rationally he knew wasn’t warranted. But in that moment, he felt anything but rational.


	12. HS AU pt4 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Prompt for the schoolboy au jay/tim thingy. Jay thought it would be fun to ya know, have a couple drinks. But he didnt realise how much of a lightweight Tim was. Little Timmy gets VERY bold when tipsy. But Jay being a lovely guy is trying his very best not to take advantage of Tim. Its hard though because Tim is so damn adorable. Happy with any ending :)"
> 
> This sat in my inbox for a bit, because I got distracted and it got buried, but boy am I glad I remembered it was there.

Jason took a swig from his bottle, staring across the couch in his room at Tim, and his flushed cheeks. His very _flushed cheeks_. 

Scattered on the floor were their empty bottles from the night, reflecting the light from Jason’s television, whatever horror movie he had queued up. Tim was actually watching, and Jason almost chuckled over that. He was clutching a bottle in his hands, and by Jason’s count that was, what, his third beer? Maybe?

Jason had lost count of his own. Not that it mattered, sure his case was almost gone but he had another one under his bed. The perks of having older friends- beer and cigarettes.

He took another drink, felt pretty light himself, and stretched his foot out, toeing at Tim’s thigh. The younger boy glanced at him, and within a heart beat started laughing without cause, leaning back into the couch cushions.

Oh, he was _definitely_ drunk already.

Jason laughed, too, because it was ridiculous, and maybe he should have figured Tim was a lightweight. Maybe he should’ve thought about all this before he asked him, when he’d only been in Jason’s empty house for maybe twenty minutes, if he wanted to drink. Hell, had the kid ever even had a drink before?

Jason came back from his thoughts when he felt a weight on his thighs, and suddenly Tim was there, straddling him, holding his bottle by the neck, that arm stretched out slightly, off the couch, as if he was trying to keep his balance.

“You’re so hot,” Tim said, just looking at him, and Jason laughed again, tipping his head back. “ _Don’t laugh_ , I really mean it.”

 

“Okay Timmy, I believe you.” Jason lifted his head again, and this time, Tim was staring at his mouth.

“I’m totally going to kiss you.” Jason smirked, took a swig from his bottle again, speaking over the lip,

“Oh yeah?”

“ _Yeah_.” Another swig.

“I’m waiting.”

Tim grinned, leaning in as Jason pulled his bottle away, kissing him on his mouth with far more courage then Jason had ever seen Tim have. Jason wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulders, careful to not spill the bottle he held, which was pressed against one of Tim’s shoulders now.

Tim’s tongue tasted like beer, way different then Jason was used to him tasting. He didn’t dislike it, though. If anything it was almost wicked to him, because Tim was just so cute and such a good kid, and here he was drunk on Jason’s couch, attacking him with sloppy kisses that Jason couldn’t get enough of.

Tim had one hand between them, gripping at the collar of Jason’s tshirt. Jason’s free hand went around his waist, pressed against the smell of his back, helped to keep him steady as they kissed, as Tim kept trying to tug Jason closer when really, he couldn’t get closer then he already was.

Jason’s fingers flexed, then, with a smirk against Tim’s lips, he slid his hand down, cupping his ass, squeezing gently. Tim jumped, body pulling up away from Jason’s hand for a moment- before he was pushing back into his hand, making a little sound into Jason’s mouth that suddenly had Jason biting at his lower lip.

“I think,” Jason breathed as he finally broke the kiss, untangling his arm from Tim’s shoulders and leaning back, his hand still firm on his ass, “that you might be the hot one here, Timmy.” Tim shook his head, his lips wet now, a pretty dark pink that had Jason rethinking the drink he was about to take.

He took it anyway, tilting his head back and finishing off his bottle. When his hand fell away and he set the empty bottle on the floor, Tim was staring at him again. Staring at him with those big blue eyes that seemed kind of glossy, and god his lips were still so pink. He squeezed his ass again, and Tim full on moaned, and suddenly he was leaning in, pressing his mouth under Jason’s jaw, licking at his skin.

Jason dropped his head back, out of instinct, as Tim kissed down his neck. He closed his eyes, couldn’t enjoyed that for, well, probably ever-

Until Tim rocked his hips forward, against him, and through Tim’s precious little Wonder Woman pajama pants, Jason could feel that he was hard. And it hit him that he was, too, had managed to really not notice just how worked up he’d gotten because, well- Tim’s mouth was a pretty distracting thing, and he did have his hand on his ass.

And suddenly, this was all a little too real.

Jason pulled his hand off Tim’s ass, grabbing at his shoulder and gently guiding him off his neck. “Okay Timmy,” he whispered, offering up a smile when the boy looked at him.

“Why’d you stop me?” he mumbled, and Jason leaned in, kissing his warm, flushed cheek.

“Because…it’s been way too long since I had a cigarette.” He grabbed at Tim’s other hand, plucking his half empty bottle of beer from his hand. “Lemme up, and I’ll be back in in a minute, okay?”

Tim frowned, pouted really, and god, he was just so outgoing like this, so open. Had he been sober, Jason knew he wouldn’t have even questioned it, would’ve probably been off the couch at this point. Granted, he wouldn’t have crawled onto his lap like that, either.

Finally, Tim fell back off his lap, scooting to lean against the other arm of the couch. Jason swung his legs off the couch, standing up- giving the room a minute to steady itself, and then walked by him, ruffling his hair.

“Back in a minute cutie.”

He didn’t look back when he grabbed his cigarettes and lighter off his desk, shoving them in the pockets of his sweatpants, and heading up the basement stairs, two at a time. He headed for the backdoor, out onto the patio. He set the beer bottle down on the small table out there, pulling out his lighter and a cigarette, cursing when he couldn’t get it lit the first few times.

The moment he had it, Jason took a long drag, shoving the lighter back into his pocket. When he exhaled, he felt himself shake, once. A mix of excitement and nerves. At this point, nerves far outweighing his excitement.

He liked Tim. He really, really did. He liked him enough that, as hot as the kid was- well, he couldn’t have stayed down there. Not with him like that, because Jason knew he would’ve done something he regretted. Was afraid he might _hurt_ Tim.

And what was equally as terrifying was the fact that he cared so much that he might hurt him.

Jason took a long swig from the bottle, followed by a long drag on his cigarette. He’d let his hormones get the better of him too many times in the past- hell, his last relationship had failed miserably because he’d rushed in, had fucked up royally and nearly fucked her life up to, her future. He didn’t really blame Kori for not talking to him now, all things considered. Didn’t help that she was an ex’s ex too- god, what a hot mess that had all been.

He finished off the bottle, setting it back down, taking another drag. He still got cold sweats when he remembered her calling him, telling him she thought she might be pregnant. He was too young for that, she was too young for that- and she was older then him. They technically weren’t even dating- Jason thought, at least. The whole ordeal had been short and wild and really just a rebound from Dick, if he was honest.

At least he and Dick were friends again.

He took a final drag on his cigarette, then flicked it away. He knew it wasn’t like he could magically knock Tim up, but he still felt that same apprehension. Besides, the kid was a virgin, he knew it. He didn’t need to ask- he’d barely been kissed before, still blushed if Jason kissed him on the long side of a minute. It didn’t seem fair to make his first time doing anything happen while he was drunk.

Besides, come morning, Tim might not even want it. And Jason- well, he wasn’t going to have that on his conscious. Or haunting Tim.

He grabbed the empty bottle, heading back inside and down the stairs. His room greeted him with the running credits for the movie, and nothing else.

“Tim?” Jason asked, setting the bottle down and walking around the couch. He found him curled up around the couch arm, sound asleep. Jason stood, frozen for a minute, before he smiled, folding his arms and just looking at him.

Yeah, this kid was cute. About the cutest thing Jason had ever seen- and when he was like this, oblivious to the world, Jason could admit to himself that what he was feeling in his gut were totally butterflies.

He turned, walking over to the TV and shutting it and his game system off. Then, carefully stepping around empty bottles- he could clean them up in the morning- he walked back to the couch, bending over and hooking his arms under Tim. The younger boy shifted, made a few little noises as Jason picked him up, hauling him across the room, to his bed. Carefully, he laid Tim down on the unmade mess, then crawled over him, so his own back was to the wall, before he grabbed his blanket and hoisted it up over them.

He draped an arm over him, leaning in and kissed the back of his neck.

“Sleep well, cutie,” he whispered, closing his eyes and nosing at the hair at the nape of his neck. Tim mumbled something, grabbing at the blanket and shifting back against Jason, to get closer. Jason smiled to himself, felt positively stupid and happy with Tim like this.

And he was definitely sure that the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt this boy.


	13. Cop/Badboy AU pt2 (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Badboy Todd fucking officer Grayson behind a building at night"

“You always make this much noise, pretty boy, or am I just a special case?” Jason grinned, had Dick pinned up against the wall with his body. The officer bit his lower lip, his cheeks flushed as he fought back the noise in his throat, Jason’s hand shoved down the front of his open pants and underwear, stroking him within the confines of his clothes. “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue now?”

Dick opened his mouth, might have had a protest there, but it disappeared into a low whine as Jason squeezed the head of his cock.

“Mmm, better.”

Jason leaned in, pressed his mouth at the open collar of Dick’s shirt, his tie loose- Jason had made quick work of that, had wanted his neck exposed. He sucked on the skin, until Dick was bucking his hips, whining, a bruise sure to form as blood rose up under the skin, turning it an angry red. Jason smirked to himself, let his teeth drag along his neck.

Jason could hear the music from inside the club, swore he felt it in his one hand braced against the wall. Harsh music with just enough rhythm for someone to take their clothes off to- but that was all it needed, anyway. To this day, Jason had never heard anyone actually say they liked the joint’s music taste- they just liked the girls and the cheap liquor and the drugs that were easy to score. But hey, that’s what this part of Gotham was known for, anyway.

Jason had been in the middle of a deal- and a damn good one too, when Dick had strolled in- alone, like an arrogant idiot. And worse- he hadn’t even had his eyes on Jason. He’d gone right up to another guy, a skinny sort with a slight stoop in his shoulders, asking him if he had papers for the gun Dick knew was under his jacket.

Jason was still damn sure if he hadn’t intervened, Dick would have a bullet between his eyes right about now.

He’d brought him out here, to save his ass, and to tear into him for it, because Jason had left his customer in a rush and knew he’d have to kiss ass to fix it- and worse, explain why the hell he was running off with a cop.

“You fucking owe me big,” Jason hissed, into Dick’s neck. “What the fuck were you thinking?” Not that he cared- no, Jason definitely didn’t. Just that this guy was pretty as all hell, and he’d been fun to play around with-

But he definitely didn’t care.

“You know,” Jason continued, leaning back and licking his lips, his thumb pressing tight against the underside of Dick’s cock, traveling up it, “Don’t even fucking tell me, it’ll be bullshit no matter what.” He pulled his other hand away from the wall, reaching down to grasp at Dick’s pants and underwear, tugging them down to his knees. “Let’s just have some fun, you and me. Maybe help me blow some steam off before I decide I’d rather kick your ass then fuck it.”

Dick gasped, glossy eyes going wide. “You can’t, not-here-” he broke off in a gasped, Jason tugging on his cock.

“Hmm, really now? Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first person I fucked in an alley. Don’t put yourself on such a high pedestal.” He leaned in, licked a hot strip up along Dick’s neck, to his ear, breathing into it, “Besides, you really wanna tell me you don’t want your ass stuffed full with my cock?” Dick groaned, pushing into Jason’s hand, leaking into his palm, as Jason fumbled along his pockets, his jacket with his free hand. “Here somewhere,” he muttered into Dick’s neck, before finding the little bottle and pulling it out. He released Dick’s cock, and the officer watched as Jason popped it open, pouring lube onto his fingers.

“You just,” he whispered, swallowing, his breath coming in rapid puffs, “carry that with you?”

Jason grinned. “Always be prepared, darling. You learn that in my mind of work.” He pressed his fingers between Dick’s legs, up against his hole. “Now’s your chance to say no, precious.”

Jason held Dick’s eyes as he spoke. He half expected him to turn him away, to let his cop-persona take over and tell Jason this was absurd. Maybe if he was down on his knees with Dick’s cock stuffed over his tongue, he would be pretty damn sure of himself. But this- this was a whole new level. And Jason would be a lying-rat if he said he didn’t want Dick- but he had limits. If the guy really didn’t want him, he’d back off. Probably punch his too-perfect jaw for the hell he’d caused tonight, but that’d be it.

Instead, Dick simply leaned forward, breaking eye contact to kiss Jason- and that was answer enough. Jason pushed a finger into him, felt Dick hiss, gyrate his hips as Jason fucked him, adding another maybe a minute or two too soon- but that sweet discomfort that flashed on Dick’s face was partnered by a perfect flush, and Jason was so hard from just looking at him like that.

“F-uck,” Dick gasped, tilting his head back, hair dragging against the rough wall. 

“Been a while pretty boy?” 

Dick licked his lips. “You have, nnnhh,” he rocked his hips with Jason’s thrusts, losing his breath, “no idea.” Jason grinned, leaning into the crook of his neck as he continued to stretch him, until Dick was a whimpering, leaking mess, and Jason was fairly sure he was going to die form the ache between his legs.

When he pulled out he leaned back, grabbed Dick by his shoulder and spun him around, shoving him so he bent over. He reached down, working his belt and pants open, pulling his own cock out and stroking himself, once, enjoying the view of Dick’s pretty pale ass, bared and raised for him- the cop reaching out to grasp at the wall.

Jason poured some lube along his cock, before capping the bottle, stuffing it into his pocket. Another stroke, and he was reaching out, grabbing a palm-full of Dick’s ass, squeezing and spreading his flesh. He didn’t ask if he was ready, didn’t say a single word as he pushed into him, without stop until his pelvis was pushing right into supple flesh.

Dick gave a cry, squeezing his eyes shut, and Jason pulled back, snapping his hips forward. He gritted his teeth, hadn’t expected Dick to feel this good around him, hadn’t really realized just how worked up he was from touching him.

Maybe he’d be angry later, that this stupid cop turned him on so much.

“You like it?” Jason asked, keeping a rhythm that was just an inch short of brutal, the kind that left an ache inside Dick, a pain that was overwhelmed with each stretch of his body, each brush of Jason’s cock right up against his prostate.

“Yeah,” Dick gasped, and Jason leaned his head back, huffing out his breath. Dick pushed his hips back, meeting Jason’s thrust, and fuck that was almost too much.

“Shit,” Jason muttered, pulling his head back up, reaching a hand forward, up along Dick’s back, shoving his shirt up along the perfect curve of his spine. Dick gave a breathy groan, shuddering, body clenching around Jason’s cock once.

Jason gritted his teeth. Dick was close, he could tell.

“You wanna come for me?” Jason asked, voice rough, hoarse, coming from his chest.

“Yes,” Dick whined, the hair at the nape of his neck damp, sticking to his skin.

“Yeah?” Jason thrust in harder, earned himself a throaty whine. “Prove it.” Another. “Fuckin’ _show me you can come_.”

Jason nearly lost his rhythm then, Dick clenching around him again. It was to much- fuck, he felt ten times better then Jason had braced himself for- and he fucked him with abandoned, hard and ruthless, heard Dick crying out to him, shuddering- and that sweet, tight clench as he came, Jason following a moment later with a low growl.

He pulled out a moment later, panting, heard Dick whine at the lose of contact. Jason tugged on his clothing, tucking his cock away and leaning over Dick, grabbing a handful of his damp hair and jerking him back, so he was standing again. Dick gasped, falling back against him, and Jason leaned into his ear.

“Pull shut again like you did tonight, and you’re a dead man.” He nipped at Dick’s neck, before shoving him. Dick’s chest smacked into the wall, his arms bending against it, cheek dragging along it. Jason stared at him, had the urge to hold his face against that wall, to shove his fingers back inside his slick body, watch his own cum leak between those thighs. 

If he was honest, he wanted to fuck this man an inch from his life, and leave him thoroughly debouched.

But Jason had wasted enough time out here. There was probably talk inside now, about where the fuck he had gone, what was he doing with a cop- and the last thing he needed was his reputation being tarnished because word got out that he was a snitch or something. Like he’d actually help the GCPD with anything.

“Clean yourself up and get the fuck outta here,” Jason warned, still listening to Dick’s gentle pants. “Before someone else comes out and get any ideas.” He walked past Dick, grabbing at the handle of the back door, before stopping and glancing back at him. “Always a pleasure, officer.”

And then he was gone, to clean up a _fucking mess_ and wonder what the hell he was even doing, risking his neck for a cop.


	14. Arranged Marriage AU pt3 (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Engagement au: weeks go by and Damian is still trying his best to win Tim over. He doesn't think it's working until one night Tim turns up in the master bedroom and hops into bed. It's super awkward for a while then Damian scoots over and gives Tim a cuddle. He can't help himself and also gives tim a quick kiss on the neck ( the rest can be completely your design)"

Damian forced himself to smile as his mother-in-law laughed at her own rather bland joke, his own father laughing as well. He knew it was rather forced, but that wasn’t the point. It was polite to laugh, to smile. 

Next to him, Tim was chuckling, softly, reaching for his drink and taking a sip from the large champagne glass. Whatever juice was mixed with the champagne was pink, and Damian assumed obnoxiously sweet. He knew Tim liked things like that.

He knew because he had definitely started to pay attention.

He watched Tim set the glass back down, under the shade of the large multi-colored umbrella the perfectly round table sported. The cafe they were at for brunch was rather new, and sported a large amount of other door seating- which, one such a clear day, was a breath of fresh air. Quite literally.

Tim’s father was speaking now, something about the initiative that the city was trying to pass to reconstruct some of the Narrows, and chose to tune him out entirely. He was far more interested in glancing at Tim, with his pretty hair pulled back into the smallest of ponytails, his bangs still free to dust his forehead, long strands dusting his cheek bones. He reached for his drink again, finishing it off with a gentle tip of his head back, and the sunlight caught off his wedding band. 

Damian’s heart gave a little leap. It had begun doing that, recently, every time he saw the ring on Tim’s finger- still, only in public. For show, for their parents and of course the paparazzi that would be snapping pictures of them when they left- had gotten a few of the families arriving, even.

The waiter stopped over, asking Tim if he’d like another drink, and Tim gave him an overly sweet smile, _yes, he would_ , and the man was taking his glass. Damian frowned, slightly, wanted Tim to smile at him like that, in that dazzling, heart stopping way. Wanted his attention, affection.

And at this point, he was at a loss as to how to get it.

The fact that he had managed to even touch Tim, giving him that massage, had been a breach of so many barriers. And Damian would be lying if he said things hadn’t improved since them. Tim was still distant, but he wasn’t overly unfriendly. And while the incident hadn’t happened again, in the full two weeks it had been, Damian still held out some form of hope.

The waiter handed Tim a fresh glass and checked on everyone else’s drinks, before stepping away again. Tim took another sip, his mother frowning at him.

“Timothy dear, you shouldn’t drink so much this early.” Tim glanced at his mother over the glass, saying nothing as he set it down, and Damian reached over, gently laying his hand on Tim’s wrist.

“It must be good if he is drinking this much, Janet,” Damian pointed out with a skilled smile- one he had learned from his father. “Can I try, beloved?” Pet names, he had also learned from watching his father, were a good distracting mask.

“Sure.” Tim sounded a bit confused, perhaps only to Damian’s ears, but that was alright. Before Tim could offer him the glass he let go of his wrist, reaching up and gripping his chin, turning him gently and leaned in, kissing him.

Perhaps it wasn’t fair, if Damian was honest with himself, to do that. Because he knew that, no matter what, Tim would go along with it- couldn’t risk anyone seeing just how dysfunctional this marriage was. If Tim’s parents had any idea what was really going on, they acted as if they didn’t. Damian didn’t think they did- after all, he did not even really confide in his father about how poor the relationship was.

But Damian couldn’t help it- he had seen the opportunity and had grasped at it. And Tim, to his credit, kissed Damian back, very gently, with those too-pink lips that tasted like sweet, refreshing fruit. Damian flicked his tongue, once, along Tim’s lower lip, before pulling back, smiling- a real smile.

“It is good,” he whispered, looking up at Tim as Janet laughed, saying something about how sweet it was to see young love. Tim stared back at him, and Damian could see the faintest pink on his cheeks.

From the heat or the champagne or the kiss, Damian couldn’t be sure.

*

Damian had expected Tim to chastise him about the kiss once they arrived home. He hadn’t. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all about it. He’d simply asked Damian how he felt about brunch’s hot topic- the Narrows initiative.

“I wasn’t aware you were even really listening to that conversation,” Damian pointed out. Tim frowned.

“Of course I was. It’s a big deal for the city.” He sounded irritated, and Damian sighed, plopping down on the couch.

“I guess it could be a good thing. I haven’t paid much attention to it, honestly.” He really hadn’t. His head had been caught up in an overseas business deal his father had left entirely in his hands- and well, this mess at home. Wayne Enterprises took up enough of his mental space that he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else in Gotham.

Tim gave a quiet _humph_ , folding his arms. He didn’t move to sit down. “Maybe you should, since your father’s company would be backing a good sixty percent of the cost for the project.”

Damian reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where are you going with this, Tim?”

“It could help so many people if it’s done right. I guess I’m just trying to see were you stand on the whole thing, _dear_.” The term came out as an almost sneer, and Damian felt his temper flare.

“I’ve got my hands full with this business deal, it’s been eating up all the mental capacity I have.” Tim rolled his eyes.

“Or, you could be honest and admit you just don’t give a shit. It’s not like you do about much of anything, anyway.”

Okay, now Damian was pissed. His hand fell away and he glared at Tim. “What the _fuck_ is this about, Tim?” There had to be something else here, Damian was sure. There was no way Tim was actually this upset over this topic. Right?

 _Right_?

“It’s about everything.” Tim turned on his heel, making for the door. “Listen, I’ve got some people I need to meet with, plans to be made and all. Don’t wait up for me.”

He was out the door before Damian could even process what had just happened. He stared at the space Tim had inhabited a moment ago, before dropping his head back groaning, closing his eyes.

That morning had almost been good. He had almost had hope that maybe they could have a good day. He had almost thought that perhaps he hadn’t made a mistake, kissing Tim.

Now, he was sure he was wrong. So, so wrong.

*

Tim hadn’t been lying when he told Damian not to wait up for him. It was dark when Damian walked into his own bedroom, leaving his tablet and phone on his nightstand and pulling his wedding band off, setting it next to everything. He’d left it on, even after Tim had stormed out. He’d twirled it around his finger when he’d called his father and asked him about this whole Narrows initiative, asked him to explain it all to him.

He’d played with it through the entire conversation, Bruce on speaker, as the lecture turned into a conversation, turned into Damian realizing he really didn’t have too many of those with his father outside of Wayne Enterprises. And it was almost nice.

It had ended with Bruce inquiring why Damian wanted to know- and Damian admitting that it was something Tim cared highly about. However Bruce took that, he did not say, he simply offered to let Damian see some of the paperwork, the plans, the following day, Monday, when he came in. Damian had tried to point out that they had a meeting early on, that he had expected they would be rushing directly into, and Bruce had only smiled- Damian knew, he heard it in his father’s voice- and told him it was alight to keep business sharks waiting from time to time.

Damian had just stretched out on his bed when he heard the door to the penthouse open, close, the click of the lock. He debated getting up, greeting Tim- and then thought better of it, rolling over and pressing his face into his pillow. Better to give him space, he expected, maybe he would be able to at least say something to him come the next evening. Maybe.

That thought had Damian’s chest clenching up painfully.

He listened to Tim disappear down the hallway, into his own bedroom. Damian closed his eyes, thinking he’d simply go to sleep now, instead of grabbing at his tablet, doing some reading. He did have to be up early.

Minutes later, however, there was the quietest tap on his door, before it was cracked open, slightly. “Damian?” Tim’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Are you still awake?”

Damian opened his eyes, sitting up, the blanket pooling around his waist. The light from the hallway filtered in between the cracks Tim and the partially open door left, casting little lines of light on Damian’s bare chest. “Yes.”

“…Can I come in?” Damian stared at him for a moment, not sure he’d heard him right.

“Sure,” he finally offered, and Tim clicked the hallway light off, slipping in and closing the door behind him. He walked over to the bed- and to Damian’s surprise, sat down on it, one leg curling up as the other hung over the edge, looking at Damian in the very faint light.

“I’m…sorry about earlier,” he admitted, “I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. There was no need.”

Damian stared at him for a moment, unbelieving. Was Tim apologizing? Was he imagining this?

“It’s alright,” he finally said, “It is a big deal, I can understand why you were so passionate. I spoke with my father about it-”

“No,” Tim started, shaking his head. “No it wasn’t just that. I…” he paused, furrowing his brows. “You called Bruce about it?”

“Yes. He has caught me up as best as he could in the time frame, and even offered to let me take a look at the papers myself tomorrow.” Tim stared at him for a moment, before his lips curved up into a smile. Not that dazzling smile he’d had that morning, but something soft, sweet- affectionate, if Damian dared to think it, dared to hope. “Now, you were saying?”

“…Never mind.” Tim ran his hand along the blanket, looking down now, avoiding Damian’s eyes. “Thank you, for doing that.” Damian gave a little nod, expected that Tim would leave then, but happy at least that perhaps this little mishap had been patched up.

But a moment passed, then two, and Tim was still sitting there, in that tshirt that looked just as soft as his hair, in those little shorts that left way too much of his long legs not to Damian’s imagination. Comfortable, sweet, with his hair free now.

“Would you…” Tim started, had to take a breath, and offered, even quieter, “Would you mind if I…stayed in here tonight?”

Damian felt his heart nearly stop, was sure he heard Tim wrong. He had to.

“You can stay.” He hadn’t trusted his voice to stay steady, wasn’t sure how he had managed to speak at all. And Tim’s smile turned to relief, as if he was so sure Damian would’ve said no. He thought to ask him _why_ , but Damian kept his curiosity to himself, didn’t want to risk Tim changing his mind.

Tim shifted, turning so he could pull the blanket up over his legs, settling down on his side, facing away from Damian, secure in a space far enough away that they did not need to touch. Damian lay back down, on his back now, staring up at the ceiling, aware of each of Tim’s small breaths. Of the itch in his finger tips, wanting to touch his hair, run along the curve of his hip. He wanted to wrap himself around his husband, and Damian knew, knew he couldn’t. Whatever was happening here was strange, but he didn’t want Tim to become uncomfortable, to leave.

But laying there, staring at the ceiling felt awkward. And he was sure Tim felt it too, the two of them trying to coexist without touching, in separate spaces but so close.

He couldn’t stand it, and Damian realized in that moment he was weak, as he rolled onto his side, reaching out and letting his hand ghost over Tim’s waist. Weak because he was sure that Tim would shove his hand away, would up and leave, that whatever progress had been made would be undone. Weak because he knew this, and couldn’t stop himself.

He heard Tim exhale, and then he was shifting, back against Damian so he fit into the curve of his laying body perfect, curve of his back against his abdomen, his chest, the swell of his ass just above Damian’s thighs. Damian choked, tensed until his muscles were so hard they hurt, his hand having fallen over Tim’s waist, splaying on his belly. Tim’s hand hand fall over it, his fingers fitting perfectly in between Damian’s.

Damian leaned forward, pressed his forehead into Tim’s hair. He could still smell his cologne, seeped into his skin, could smell his floral shampoo. Things Damian had hated at first, but now…now he was sure Tim smelled like the sweetest flower, and it made him want to press his nose into his hair, inhale, to nuzzle it, the crook of his neck. 

Without thinking, Damian pressed his mouth to the nape of his neck, kissing softly, catching skin and Tim’s soft hair. He felt Tim shiver, slightly, felt his hand press harder over Damian’s, his hips shift back, trying to press all of his body closer. Then he was relaxing, and Damian pulled back slightly, so rest against his own pillow.

“Good night,” Damian whispered, and Tim was echoing the words that had given him hope two weeks ago, were breathing hope into him again now.

“Good night, Damian.”


	15. Single Dad AU (BruceDick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "You're wish is my command! Bruce/dick airport au continued. When they make it to Gotham Dick takes Bruce up on the dinner offer. For some reason Dick doesn't have a place to stay and was just going to stay at a motel or somewhere. But Damian gets super upset when Dick tries to leave. There may even be some sippy cup trowing involved. Bruce is super embarrassed and awkwardly asks if dick would want to crash on his couch (cough cough bed) just to keep the little demon happy of course (wink wink)"
> 
> This stems off the prompt entitled "Silly faces"

Dick gripped at the strap of his shoulder bag, greeted once again by the good old Gotham air, the sounds of traffic outside the airport. _Home_. It had been a while. Maybe too long, if he was honest.

Next to him, Bruce was on his phone, standing next to his suitcase. Damian was actively watching people walk by, holding onto his stuffed bat with a near-death grip. Dick was sure there were people he needed to call, things he had to get in order- but one look at the kid, who looked up at him and grinned, and he knew it could wait a little.

“Where would you like to go for dinner?” Bruce asked, and Dick looked up, realized he’d tucked his phone away. 

“Uh, it doesn’t matter to me. I mean, anything is better then plane food, right?” Dick gave a rather cheesy smile, and Bruce laughed, looking down at Damian.

“What do you want for dinner Damian?” Bruce asked, and the boy looked up at his father, saying nothing, hiding half behind the bulbous shape of the bat. Bruce sighed. “C’mon buddy, help daddy out.” Still nothing. Bruce glanced back at Dick, smiling. “Alright well, I guess the first place we see. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Dick had expected a trip to the parking lot a few minutes later- instead, he got a rather nice car pulling up, the driver getting out and shaking Bruce’s hand, taking his bag from him and loading it into the trunk. Before Dick could even speak, his own was taken, and Bruce was taking the keys from the man with a _thank you_.

“Alright Damian,” Bruce started, opening the back door as the man walked off, “Time to go.” Damian looked up at Dick, then, very loudly said,

“Don’t wanna.” Bruce sighed, noticed he was looking at Dick, crouched down, so he was level with his son.

“We’re getting dinner buddy. Dick is going to come with us.” Damian looked from his father, back up to Dick, as if not believing him. Dick smiled. “But we can’t go if we don’t get you into your seat.”

Damian waited another minute, then, “okay,” and let Bruce picked him up, leaning into the car to settle him in his car seat. Once he was securely strapped in and the door was shut, Bruce gave a sigh.

“Everything’s a negotiation with him,” he admitted, and Dick just smiled.

“Hey he’s, what, maybe three? Isn’t that normal?”

“Yeah,” Bruce said with a smile, “It is. And I’ve got another six weeks until this kid is three, let’s not make him grow up any faster.” Dick smiled as Bruce laughed, couldn’t help but think it lit his face up in a rather attractive way.

*

Dick wasn’t sure he’d heard of the restaurant they stopped at- but then again, this was the better part of Gotham- okay, the much better part, and he didn’t frequent it very often. And, considering how long it had been since he’d been home- well, he was sure he’d forgotten a lot.

He was happy that, despite it being set in such a nice part of the city, the other people around him seemed dressed just as casually. Granted, he was sure he was a bit of a sight for sore eyes. He probably needed a shower and about twelve hours of sleep to look like a real human being again.

“Alright kiddo,” Bruce said, pulling away from the seat he’d settled Damian in, “What do you want to eat?” Dick was glancing over the menu, trying to make sense of it- weird salads and things he wasn’t sure he’d ever _heard of_. Was this where Bruce normally ate? Was Dick this behind on Gotham culture?

“Not hungry.”

Bruce groaned, and Dick couldn’t help but chuckle to himself behind his menu.

“Lunch was a long time ago Damian, you’ve gotta be hungry.”The boy shook his head. “How about just a little something, for daddy.” Another shake of his head, and Bruce leaned back, obviously exhausted.

Dick set his menu down, leaning his arms onto the table so he could get closer to Damian. “Hey dude, you’re really not hungry? I figure a growing little man like you would need lots-a food.” Damian looked at Dick, smiling at _just his voice_ , before tugging on his own tshirt, needing something to occupy his hands. Bruce had insisted the overly large stuffed bat stay in the car.

“I ate cookies while daddy was asleep,” Damian said, acting as if he was whispering even though, Dick swore, he was speaking louder then usual. Bruce sat up at that, staring at Damian for a minute, before turning, rummaging around in the bag he had with him, settled on the floor. There was something overly endearing to Dick about Bruce having a diaper bag, even if the kid was obviously past that stage.

Sure enough, inside, Bruce found the snacks he kept on hand, and a small bag of Damian’s favorite cookies totally empty. He glanced back at Damian, who looked right at Bruce with his big blue eyes- and Bruce was just shaking his head.

“Death of me, kid,” he pointed out. “Okay. You don’t have to eat anything. But you know you’re supposed to ask daddy first for snacks.” Damian nodded, and Dick pulled back, looking at the menu again. He must have looked confused, because a moment later Bruce was asking, “You want some help ordering?”

“Oh thank god, yes please.” Dick set it down, blushing a little, and Bruce just smiled at him.

When the waitress came back, Bruce ordered for the two of them, and a small glass of juice that involved fruit Dick swore he’d never even heard of. The drinks came first, and Bruce pulled a sippy cup from his bag, pouring half the cup into it and screwing the top on, before putting it in front of Damian.

The kid didn’t argue with that, and happily lifted it by its two handles, sipping on it. Dick almost laughed over the cup, a mix of orange and grey with big cartoon style bats all over it. Probably meant for Halloween.

“This kid loves Bats,” Bruce admitted, “and for the life of me, I do not know why. They terrified me as a kid.” He sighed. “I blame his mother.”

“It’s cute,” Dick admitted, realized he, like Bruce, was just watching Damian, who was otherwise happily scribbling on a piece of paper with a few crayons- another things Bruce had had in that bag. Dick have to give him credit, at least he was prepared.

Even though Dick couldn’t pronounce the name of whatever Bruce had ordered, it was utterly heavenly, and really, considering he wasn’t sure the last time he’d had a decent meal, with the chaos his life had been recently, it was probably the highlight of the last week.

There had been a little moment, when the waitress brought the check over, where Dick had attempted to put up a fight over Bruce simply pulling out his wallet and sliding a card into it, handing it right back. A moment that Dick lost because Bruce just smiled at him and pointed out that he had asked Dick to dinner, and it was only fair he let him pay for it.

Really, Dick thought this guy was too nice. This stuff didn’t actually happen in real life, right? He had to be living, what, some sort of chick flick in this moment?

The least he felt he could do was help with Damian, who seemed to be getting tired. Bruce had tucked his crayons away, and Dick stood up, lifting the boy, who was holding his sippy cup in one hand, and held him, Damian settling his head against Dick’s shoulders. Dick gave him a little squeeze. “You tired little D?”

A little nod, as the waitress came back, handing Bruce back his card. She looked at Dick and smiled. “Always good to see you, Mr. Wayne,” she offered, and then, “You know, it’s always great when you can have a date and your partner is this good with your kid. Never works that way for me.”

Dick blushed, opened his mouth to point out this wasn’t a date- oh definitely, no way. Not a date. Then he’d really be living the plot of the latest romantic-drama. But she was walking away, and neither had the chance to correct her.

They made their way out to Bruce’s car, Bruce offering to take Damian but Dick just shaking his head. He didn’t mind.

“So, where’s home?” Bruce asked, as he set his bag in the back. Dick shrugged a shoulder.

“It might be a bit complicated,” he admitted, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, “I know I said Gotham is home but…well, it’s been a few years. Almost three, actually. I’m moving back- or, trying to. I have a possible apartment a friend told me about, but I haven’t gotten to actually take a look at it yet. I was just going to get a motel for the night, check it out tomorrow.” He felt Damian shift, the boy waking up as the night air settled on them. “Wouldn’t be the first time I lived out of a suitcase.”

“Not leaving,” Damian said, pulling back and trying to look at Dick, who braced a large hand against his little back.

“I have to, little D,” Dick said, even as Bruce seemed to look at him with far less sure eyes. “You’ve gotta go home.”

“No!” Damian yelled, tossing his sippy cup down, and Bruce cut in,

“Damian!” He reached for the boy, taking him from Dick, even as he squirmed to try and avoid his father, as he huffed and whined. Dick bent down and grabbed the cup, as Bruce managed to get a very unhappy Damian into his seat, buckled in. The moment Bruce was out of the car, Dick leaned in, setting the cup in the bag and then grabbing Damian’s stuffed bat, handing it to him.

“You do my a favor little D,” he said, as Damian squeezed the toy. “And come up with a name for that bat, okay? So next time, I’ll know what to call my little superhero’s sidekick.”

Damian gave a very happy, sleepy smile, and Dick pulled out, closing the door. Bruce was watching with a tired smile.

“I have never seen him take to anyone like he has you,” Bruce admitted, “I’m sorry about the almost-tantrum.”

“It’s fine,” Dick offered, raking a hand back through his hair. “They happen.” He glanced back at Bruce, then had to look away, still a little flustered over being mistaken for his partner twice in a single day. “So, where is the nearest motel anyway? I’m sorry, it’s just been so long.”

“Stay with me for the night.” This time, Dick whipped his head up, hurting his neck to stare at Bruce. “I mean it. I’m sure it will be a lot less chaotic, and more comfortable.”

“You’ve got a toddler. The last thing you need is someone you barely know crashing on your couch,” Dick pointed out, and Bruce just smiled.

“It’s really not a problem. There’s plenty of room. Trust me.”

*

Dick really wasn’t sure how he ended up losing that battle, or how, some time later, they were on the roads outside of Gotham, heading away from the city lights. Dick had thought Bruce lived within the actual city, but knew now that assumption had to be wrong.

By the time they pulled past an old gate, Damian had been out for almost the entire car ride, and Dick could admit he was drowsy himself. He came to life though, when Bruce drove the paved circle to pull up towards the front of the Manor.

And then Dick remembered the waitress calling him Mr. Wayne, and his brain nearly short circuited.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, not having been gone long enough to forget Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s rich cover boy. Really, was this the same guy? Dick had never really seen him in person, in all his years growing up in the city- he’d just seen his face plastered on things, seen him on the news. That sort of deal.

They didn’t do him justice.

“I said there was room,” Bruce pointed out, parking the car. No sooner then they had their doors open was the Manor door opening, an older gentlemen walking out, and Bruce smiling, grinning really, and waving at him. “Alfred, god is it good to see you.”

“Welcome home, Master Wayne,” he offered, before glancing at Dick. “I did not know you would be bringing a guest.”

“Alfred, this is Dick.” Bruce had moved to the trunk, was pulling their bags out. “Dick, this is Alfred. He’s been with me my whole life.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dick offered, holding out his hand. Alfred gave it a firm shake, smiling.

“The pleasure is mine, sir.” He moved around the car, taking the suitcases by their handles.

“Would you put Dick’s in the guest room, Alfred? You know which one.”

“Of course sir.” He was leaving before Dick could say anything, left to sling his smaller bag over his shoulder while Bruce gathered up the diaper bag, and then a sleeping Damian. The boy clutched his stuffed bat between him and his father, his face pressed into the crook of Bruce’s neck.

He followed Bruce inside, and up the wide, main flight of stairs. This was all too surreal, and he was pretty sure he was still sleeping on the plane. Or, even, that the plane had crashed and he was dying somewhere in the rubble.

Because he definitely didn’t meet Bruce Wayne on a plane, or have him take him out to dinner, and he definitely wasn’t walking down the halls of Wayne Manor that very moment. Because things like this just didn’t happen in his life, Dick knew. He’d used up any luck he’d had a long time ago, and was sure he’d cursed himself with a good seven years of bad luck at this point.

Coming back to Gotham with four years of bad luck to go was probably stupid, but he hadn’t known what else to do. He missed his home city. He missed the few friends he had here. And yeah, maybe he missed her a little too, even if she was the reason he left in the first place.

“I had Alfred put your bag in here,” Bruce said, stopping by a door. “I…can imagine you’re probably exhausted.”

“Yeah,” Dick admitted, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “You really didn’t have to do this.” Bruce smiled at him, small, and shifted Damian a little, who snuggled closer.

“It’s not a problem. I’ll…let you get some sleep. I’ve got to put this little demon to bed.” Dick chuckled, reached out to stroke back Damian’s overly-soft hair, and the toddler sighed happily. “Sleep well.”

“Thanks,” Dick whispered, as Bruce turned, carrying Damian down the hallway. “You too.”

He let himself into the room, which was really a large bedroom- hell, Dick was sure the room was probably as large as the apartment he was going to end up getting, jesus, with an adjoining bathroom. And Dick knew, as he dropped his bag by his suitcase and pulled his jacket off, that he should take a shower. Traveling all day, those layovers, he was sure he needed it.

He kicked his shoes off, kept telling himself that as he stripped of his jeans, but knew it was no use. There was no way he was doing anything but crawling right into that bed.

He slipped under the covers in his boxer briefs and tshirt, flopping over onto his side and pressing his face into the pillows. Everything smelled faintly of a lavender soap, and if the fatigue-ache in Dick’s bones hadn’t been enough to lull him into sleep in mere minutes, that smell would have been.


	16. HS AU pt5 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Highschool au: it's the morning after their little drinking session and Tim has a killer hangover. But he is one of those people who are extremely pathetic and cuddly. Jay feels kinda guilty about last night even though really nothing happened. Tim doesn't really remember anything apart from feeling excited, so he keeps asking Jason what happened. He also asks Jason about his past etc. (Cute cuddles and sweet kisses to balance out the badboy/cop fic ;) )"
> 
> This is the AU that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends~

Tim’s had was throbbing, and he groaned, shoving his face into the pillow. Sitting next to him in the bed, Jason was rubbing at his spine.

“It’ll pass Tim,” he whispered, and Tim only groaned.

“I think I’m dying.”

“It’s a hangover, you’re not dying.”

“No. I’m dying.” He rolled over, daring to open his eyes. The first time he had gone so that morning he’d groaned loud enough that Jason had woken up. This time, the fairly dark room hurt less. He couldn’t have been more thankful that Jason’s room was in the basement, away from windows and light.

Jason shook his head, smiling. He felt fine himself, but he had plenty of drinking experience under his belt. And with how much of a lightweight he’d realized Tim was, he should have seen this coming.

He climbed over him, carefully. “I’ll get something for your head,” he said, walking out of his room. Tim rolled onto his back, stared up at the dark ceiling. He didn’t remember much of anything from the night before. Sure, he remembered getting to Jason’s for the weekend, remembered the boy offering him a beer and Tim taking it, feeling like a _badass_ , but then it got blurry.

Vaguely, he remembered being in Jason’s lap. Less vaguely, he remembered feeling way more turned on then he was pretty sure he ever had in his life.

Jason came back a minute later, glass of water in one hand, other hand closed around he revealed to be pain killers, as Tim sat up and took both with a mumbled thank you, downing them and half the glass of water. He set it on the floor as Jason crawled back into bed, sitting cross-legged as Tim flopped back onto his back.

“You need a good shower,” Jason said, “And then some really greasy food. It’ll help. We could get burgers.”

“Please,” Tim whined, “Don’t mention food.”

“You feel sick?” Tim hesitated.

“…No. Not really. But I don’t want to think about eating, either.”

“Okay.” Jason reached out, playing with his hair.

“So what happened? I don’t really…remember anything.” Jason looked away- quickly, Tim noticed- and shrugged a shoulder.

“Oh, you know. You laughed a lot. Actually tried to watch the movie, which is really how I knew you were drunk. You fell asleep when I went out to have a cigarette.” Tim furrowed his brow.

“…Jay, can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Tim frowned, and Jason shook his head. “Okay, okay, sorry cutie. Shoot.”

“Did we…do anything?” This time, Jason looked down at his lap, at his faded sweatpants, the sheets around them, and Tim wasn’t exactly sure what answer he was going to get- or what answer he wanted.

Finally, after a minute, “No.” Tim relaxed a little, reaching up and laying his arm above his head, grabbing Jason’s fingers from his hair and squeezing them.

“Why?”

“I thought you didn’t remember anything.”

“I remember having a hard-on that probably coulda killed me.” Tim blushed then, and despite it, Jason laughed for a moment, before shaking his head.

“Yeah, you got pretty handsy kid. But I stopped you. It’s not fair for your first time to be while you’re drunk off your ass.” Tim looked about ready to argue Jason on part of that, and the older boy rolled his eyes. “Timmy, you blush when you kiss me for more then a minute. You’re a virgin, don’t fight me on this.” Tim sighed then, and Jason flopped down on the bed, stretching out on his back, one arm up, giving Tim space to roll over and curl up against him. “And there’s nothing wrong with that, either.”

“If you say so.” Jason gave him a squeeze.

“I do. Really, it’s not a bad thing.” Tim squirmed a little, an arm falling over Jason’s body, nestling in close.

“We…we could have done something, though. I wouldn’t regret it.” Jason didn’t need to see Tim’s face to know he was blushing.

“I would have though.” Tim made a little confused sound. “Just trust me on this.”

“But why?” Jason frowned.

“Because I don’t wanna fuck this up and hurt you, Tim. I like you too much for that.” Tim pushed himself up now, looked down at Jason, obviously confused. “Sorry, that came out a little rough. I’m not mad, okay? I just…I like you a lot. And sex can make everything messy- don’t you dare laugh, I swear to god Tim.” But Tim was giggling and Jason reached up, wrapping both arms around him and pulling him down, crashing the boy against his chest and squeezing him until Tim flailed.

“You’re crushing me!” he breathed between laughs, and Jason smirked

“You deserve it! I was being serious.” He did, however, loosen his hold, so Tim could rest comfortably on his chest again. “But really. If you’re not careful, it can make a mess of a lot of things.”

Tim frowned, squirming a little, and Jason could only think that hangovers apparently turned Tim into one big cuddle-bug. Though, Tim was pretty cuddly anyway, Jason just figured he was a little too embarrassed to give into it.

“What happened?” Tim finally asked, lifting his head up, resting his chin on his hand on Jason’s chest. Jason huffed out his breath, stared at those overly-sweet blue eyes, and considered just brushing the question off, lying maybe.

But he was pretty sure he could never look Tim in those eyes and actually lie.

“I was with this girl,” he started, choosing to stare up at the ceiling as he spoke, “Her name is Kori. We didn’t…date, really. Kinda just…had a lot of sex and hung out sometimes. But whatever, I guess it doesn’t matter. She was just…really fucking hot, and I had gotten out of a pretty intense relationship. She dated the guy too, actually- that was how we met. We sorta just clicked over needing to get over Dick. And…well. She thought she was pregnant.” Jason sighed, didn’t want to look at Tim now, for sure. Felt his own cheeks almost tinging in color. “And fuck, I thought my life was over. We didn’t know what to do, she was starting college and I’m…well, you know where I am. It just was the worst thing that could’ve happened. Thank god she wasn’t, but that ended everything between us.”

Jason took a deep breath, dared to glance down at Tim. Tim, who was laying there, just looking at him, _listening_. Tim, who hadn’t squirmed away from him yet.

“She won’t talk to me now. I haven’t spoken to her in months, easily. Not since summer. And I don’t blame her at all. And I guess…I just thought if we rushed in, it’d end up the same. You not talking to me, because I was an ass.”

Tim hesitated a moment, before he leaned up, kissed the corner of Jason’s mouth quickly. Then he stretched out again, head resting in the crook of Jason’s neck, so when Tim spoke, it was just under his ear.

“Well…thank you, for looking out for me.” Tim gave him a squeeze.

“You probably think I’m trash now.”

Tim shook his head, nosing at his neck. “Nope. You’re still a sweetheart to me. At least you feel bad about it? And I can’t even imagine how scary that must have been. No wonder horror movies don’t phase you.”

Jason quirked up an eyebrow, pressing one hand to the small of Tim’s back. “Are you trying to see a zombie apocalypse is less scarier then an unplanned pregnancy?”

“Yeah.”

Jason laughed at that. He laughed to the point of his stomach hurting, and Tim giggled into his skin. When Jason finally could speak, he could barely breath.

“I’m not gonna disagree,” he finally said, stroking Tim’s spine again. The younger boy smiled.

“But, for the record,” Tim added, and Jason could feel the boy’s cheeks heating up, “Maybe I’d…wanna do something with you. Eventually.”

Jason rolled his eyes, managing to get more onto his side so he could get both arms securely around Tim. He kissed his temple, then his hair.

“Okay,” he whispered, “Okay. When we get to that point. Let’s focus on today for now. How’s that head of yours?”

Tim scrunched up his face. “Honestly? It hurts like hell and I still think I’m dying.” Jason shook his head, tucking Tim’s back down under his chin, letting the boy nuzzle along his collar bone.

“Lightweight,” he teased, even as he rocked Tim once, twice, gently, kept holding him against his heat so that Tim was feeling drowsy again. And Tim didn’t mind the teasing, because he knew that Jason cared. Cared a hell of a lot, or they wouldn’t be curled up like that, wouldn’t have just had that conversation.

And Tim could admit, to himself, silently, that he felt way closer to Jason in that moment then he did the night before, when he was drunk and thinking that there would be nothing better then to have Jason’s hands all over him.

And yeah, there was. Whatever this was, despite Tim’s headache which, if he was honest, was dulling because of the meds, was better. Way better, because Tim could remember, remember every press of Jason’s hands, as innocent as they may be. Because Jason cared enough to actually put his own desires behind taking care of Tim, because he opened up with something that Tim assumed no one knew.

Tim sucked his lip into his mouth, could only think that his crush on Jason had expanded tenfold, to a point that he was nearly sick over it. To a point that he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs to everyone he met about it. To the school, to his parents, to strangers.

Except he still didn’t know what he’d say? That he was stupidly in teenage love with his friend? Could he say boyfriend? Was that allowed? Were they even dating? Tim had no idea, still, but didn’t think asking Jason now was the best idea.

Besides, he wanted nothing more then in that moment to go back to sleep for half the day, and hopefully wake up _without_ this headache.


	17. Permission (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Mad, can you write another DickDami? Prompt is: Dick asks Bruce for Damian hands in marriage. The thing Bruce only know is Dick had a crush with him long time a go. I guess the awkwardness is as high as Himalaya. Would you like to write that? Thank you!"
> 
> I altered the prompt a little, going more with Bruce just didn't know how serious the relationship was. Also, I may have written this at work...

“What did you need, Dick?” Bruce hadn’t looked up from his laptop, even when the younger man had walked into his office- escorted by his secretary. The door had barely clicked shut before Bruce had asked- he had a meeting early the next day, and there was simply too much paperwork to go over. It hadn’t helped that he had had his ass handed to him the night prior on patrol- another sore reminder that he wasn’t getting any younger.

Dick hesitated, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, looking and feeling out of place within Wayne Enterprises. Ever since he’d moved from the Manor, had ceased to appear in the spotlight with Bruce, he had faded from the public eye. Not a completely forgotten son of Bruce Wayne- but close.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he finally forced out, feeling his heart racing in his chest, thumping damn near painfully against his ribs. Faster then if he was diving off the rooftops after the Joker. Faster then if he was leaping off the back of Jason’s bike to hurl himself onto Harley.

Faster then if he were to be left alone in Arkham during a riot.

“Ask away.” Bruce still hadn’t looked up, typing a reply to an email, only glancing away to reference some of the paperwork on his desk.

Dick sucked on his lip for a moment, reminded himself he had rehearsed this the whole way over. Hell, the past few nights, in the mirror of his apartment.

Except it was entirely different when he was actually staring at Bruce. At the man who had trained him, helped to raise him. At the damn Batman.

Dick inhaled, clenching his hands in his pockets, his words having the slightest shake to them as he said, “I want to ask Damian to marry me.”

Bruce’s fingers kept working over his keys for a moment, before they stilled. His thought process ceased, and he questioned himself as to if he was hearing things. Had he hit his head last night? He didn’t remember doing so, but it was completely possible. After all- there was no way he had just heard that.

He glanced up from his laptop, across the room, and realized, by Dick’s determined eyes, by the pale shade his cheeks had taken, that maybe he had heard him correctly.

“You…what?” The words came out before Bruce could filter them, and he closed his laptop, needing to be able to see Dick unobstructed. His first protege shifted his weight, looking more awkward then he had as a boy.

“I wanna marry Damian.” A second time. Bruce couldn’t be hearing things twice.

He tried to do more then stare at Dick, but it was hard. _Marry Damian_? When had they gotten to that point? Bruce wasn’t blind, he knew there was something between them, but he hadn’t a clue that it was that serious. He assumed it was mostly physical- the bruises Damian often sported on his neck that Bruce worked so hard to ignore were proof of that.

If he stopped to think on it, perhaps maybe there did seem to be more there. It had never been a secret that, of the family, Dick was the one Damian would stand to be around the most, and that perhaps, as an adolescent, he’d harbored a crush on the man who had worn the cowl when he was first Robin, who had helped to train him. But crushes were simply that- crushes. Harmless, normal. And anything normal that happened to Damian Bruce was willing to welcome.

But Bruce hadn’t been aware that Damian’s affections were returned at such a level. He could accept Dick having an attraction to his son- although at first, the age gap had proved to be troubling, had left him worried about Damian’s own safety, and Dick’s own sanity. Dick had ten years on him, easily. But Damian had been eighteen when it had happened- and while Bruce may have overreacted a bit, may have thrown some low verbal blows at Dick, he had come around. After all, he did trust Dick. With his life.

And with his son.

“Look, I know this probably sounds crazy,” Dick started, able to take one step towards Bruce. “And I know you’re probably thinking that this can’t be good for him, with the age gap. But…I love him, Bruce.” The color that had completely faded from Dick’s face was returning, his cheeks tinging pink, making him look younger. Granted, Dick looked young to begin with- Bruce didn’t doubt where Damian’s attraction for him came from.

Bruce sat back in his chair, managing to fold his hands in his lap, trying to steady them. There was the slightest tremble in his finger tips- he could feel it building.

“I know Damian deserves better. I know he deserves someone probably more his age, more his…standing.” Dick glanced down at that, as if despite Bruce raising him, despite the fact that he would forever have a home at the Manor, that he was still a different class entirely. “But he…he chose me. And I’ll never know what I did to deserve that, but I’m damn glad I did.”

Bruce continued to stare at Dick, silently. To mull his words over. Damian was still young, barely twenty one. He had his whole life ahead of him. He had a future, he had a place at the company, Bruce’s in fact, that he would take up someday. He had the cowl that Bruce knew he wanted so badly- that he was sure he’d be handing to Damian far sooner then he wanted to.

And yet…Bruce couldn’t deny that Damian had been…happier, as of recent. He had never outgrown his sullen disposition, but his jabs at the family seemed almost lighthearted now. And he smiled, sometimes simply to himself. Bruce hadn’t seen that, not until these past few years-

Not until Dick.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Bruce’s words were low, his voice far steadier then it felt. Dick gave a single nod.

“Dead serious.”

Bruce thought of Damian again, of the small boy who had come to the Manor from his mother, of the bratty child that was his blood. The boy with too much talent and too big an ego. The boy who had _grown up_.

The boy he’d seen sit content the other night, while Dick had kissed his temple, toyed with his hair, as Damian had sketched. A brief moment of calm, before the night brought storms.

Bruce stood up, making his way towards Dick with long, practiced strides. For a moment, it looked as if Dick might flinch away, there was a jump in his eyes- but he held firm, and the moment Bruce reached him, he pulled the shorter man to him, into his arms.

He hugged Dick as he thought of his son by blood, smiling finally. He hugged Dick while he thought of the boy he had first given the Robin mantel to, standing here now- grown as well. Even if he had had years to adjust to Dick leaving childhood behind, sometimes it was still hard to believe.

Dick relaxed into his hold, even as Bruce pulled back. “Is that a yes?”

“I wasn’t aware you were actually asking for my permission.”

Dick smiled, charming as ever. “You always ask the father’s permission. Which, in this case, I’m pretty glad for. I don’t particularly want to put a call into Talia.”

Bruce chuckled, even as he felt his chest heating up, felt a strange calming joy seeping into his bones. Joy, because this would make Damian happy.

“It’s a yes,” Bruce offered, reaching up to give Dick’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Dick beamed at him, pulling him into another hug, so tight that, for a moment, Bruce couldn’t breathe.

Yes, he could see the two of them together. Happy. And that was all that mattered- especially in their line of work. That they find happiness for as many moments as they could.


	18. Single Dad AU pt2 (BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Single Dad AU: Dick is woken up by Damian who comes in and just crawls into bed with him before falling straight back to sleep. Dick in super tired and doesnt really register and goes falls asleep again. A few hours later he is woken by a panicked Bruce who can find Damian because "the little demon has managed to figure out how to escape his cot" Bruce takes Damian and Dick realises that he should probably leave. So he does. But eventually Bruce has to go looking for him because Dami is distraught and wont eat or do anything because his friend left without saying good bye. In the mean time Dick has gone and caught up with some friends. Namely ‘her’. So we can find out a bit more about why he left in the first place."
> 
> There is so much backstory in this fill oh boy.

Vaguely, Dick heard his door clicking open. He pressed his face into his pillow, shutting the sound out- ignoring the bed as it dipped, ever so slightly, someone crawling on. A moment later there was a tiny body wiggling under his blanket, tugging on his arm. Dick huffed, rolling onto his side, until the little body could squirm under his arm, nestling up into his chest.

Maybe somewhere in his mind, Dick knew what was happening, but he was still so exhausted, barely past the waking threshold. Instead of being alarmed, all he did was clutch at Damian, holding the boy against his chest as they both drifted back to sleep.

The next time Dick’s door opened, it was after a knock, a succession of three raps, and then it was clicking open. Dick had rolled onto his back at some point, the blanket pooling around his waist, tangled in his legs. He blinked, staring up at the ceiling, heard Bruce speaking before he was anywhere near the bed.

“Sorry to wake you,” he was saying, “Damian’s not in his room. Sometimes I think that little demon might have Houdini’s blood in him.” Dick yawned, stretching, thinking he’d force himself up, take a look for the little rascal- when he felt those little arms clinging to him, and Damian nuzzling against his chest. Dick tried to sit up, barely managed around the boy, and Damian yawned, opening his blue eyes- just like his daddy. Bruce had made it closer to the bed now- a look of relief washing over him when he saw the boy, safe and content. “Oh thank god. Last time I spent an hour looking for him.”

“Jeez, sorry,” Dick said, his cheeks flushing. “I. I don’t know-”

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, leaning over the bed and gathering Damian up, who squirmed, but ultimately curled up into his father. “He has a nasty habit of wondering. I didn’t think he’d actually come in here. Let me just get him back to bed.”

Bruce was gone before Dick could say anything. The moment the door closed Dick got up, grabbing his jeans and slipping into them. His heart was thudding up into his throat- couldn’t imagine how it looked to have your kid just showing up in bed with some guy you barely knew. He raked a hand back through his head, cursing himself, wondering how the hell he had slept through that.

When Bruce came back, Dick was fully dressed. The other man flashed a smile. “I’m sorry about that-”

“No, I am,” Dick said, “I have no idea how he got in here, how I slept through-” Bruce raised his hand, stopping Dick mid sentence.

“It’s fine. Like I said, he wanders. How about some coffee?” Dick glanced at Bruce, wouldn’t go all the way up to his eyes. He felt awkward now, like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. And maybe he was exaggerating and blowing this out of proportion- but he’d barely been back home, he was hoping things might go a little smoothly, at least.

“I should probably just go,” Dick said, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “I don’t need to trouble you more then I have.”

“It’s no trouble,” Bruce offered, but Dick still didn’t look at him, and he didn’t want to push. “But if you’re sure, I can have Alfred take you into the city.” Dick dared to glance up, as far as Bruce’s smile, missed that it was a bit forced along the edges.

*

Dick clutched at the strap of his back, tugging his wheeled suitcase behind him. He’d walked about two blocks from where he had asked Alfred to drop him already, and realized that maybe it was stupid, what he was doing. He probably didn’t need to go see her, before he was even settled.

Maybe she didn’t even have the same apartment, maybe she’d moved. Maybe she wouldn’t be home, and her husband would answer the door. He couldn’t rule out that she’d moved on, found herself someone nice to settle with.

Dick took a deep breath, rounding the corner, looking at the apartment complex, worn brick- one of the older, but nicer buildings in the neighborhood. He’d always liked it.

And, as if fate had held his hand, guiding him there, he saw the glimpse of her red waves, the splash of freckles on her shoulders, her face, as she turned, stepping out from the building-

And stopping, the moment she saw him. Behind her sunglasses, Dick couldn’t see her eyes, couldn’t read her face as she simply stared. He was considering just turning, walking away without a word, when her mouth turned to a grin, and she yelled, nearly at the top of her lungs, “Dick Grayson!” and broke into a run, all the way to him.

She threw her arms around his neck, embracing him with such force Dick nearly fell over, stumbling back, standing there dumbly for a minute before he wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace. “Hey Babs.”

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed, leaning back, “I can’t believe it’s you. It’s been _so long_!”

He gave her a smile, sad around the edges, and when he spoke, the words hurt his throat. “I know it has. You…haven’t changed at all.” She smiled, dared to reach up, brush some of his dark hair back from one cheek.

“Your hair is longer,” she teased, and he rolled his eyes, before she grabbed at his hand. “Come up, have some coffee.”

“I’m not interrupting?”

“Dick, you’re _never_ interrupting.”

And so, ten minutes later, Dick found himself sitting at the same little table, in her kitchenette, that he had so long ago. The magnets on her fridge at multiplied, a few pictures held up- the coffee pot was new, had replaced the old beast they had worn into the ground from their morning addiction. When she handed him the mug, the coffee was already the lightest tan, and one sip told him she had counted the spoonfuls of sugar she’d put in.

“You remember how I like my coffee,” he whispered, as she sat down opposite him.

“You don’t forget something like that, not after all our years together, Dick.” She lifted her own mug, took a long sip. “What are you doing back in Gotham? I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

Dick shrugged a shoulder. “I guess I just…missed home.” He gripped the mug, enjoying the warmth it sent into his palms. “Missed a lot of things.”

Barbara frowned, glancing down at her own mug. The silence settled, and they let it, neither sure what words to drag up. Finally, she inhaled. “I didn’t think you’d really leave.”

“You did tell me you never wanted to see me again.” Barbara shrugged, gently, both shoulders.

“And you said you were fine with that. We both said a lot of things.” Dick nodded, not fighting her on that. “God Dick…it’s been what, three years now? You know, there was a time when I thought three hours without you was too much.” They both laughed at that, and Dick reached a hand across the table, offering it. Barbara reached out, took it, let him stroke his thumb along her knuckles.

“Have you been alright?” Barbara nodded, slowly.

“Lately. Maybe not at first- but I got there.”

“I heard you were in rough shape. I…I almost came back, a few times. But I figured seeing me wasn’t going to help.” Barbara turned her hand, letting their fingers tangle together, squeezing gently.

“It wouldn’t have,” she admitted, “I…I needed to heal on my own. Besides, every time I saw your picture, I just thought…thought he’d have your eyes, you know? And I couldn’t handle that.” She shook her head, but Dick noticed there were no tears in the corners of her eyes. “I can’t imagine if you’d come back, what it might have done.”

Dick said nothing, could understand. He’d spent a few nights at the bottom of a bottle, thinking he might have had Barbara’s hair, her freckles. Her pretty smile, the kind she got when she had a wicked idea.

The baby they had lost, before he even had a name. Before he had a chance. They had barely even known it was a he when Barbara had miscarried, hadn’t settled on any sort of names. Hell, they had just gotten used to the idea that they were having a baby, when it was wrenched from them.

“Some things you don’t bounce back from,” Barbara whispered, “There wasn’t a chance for us, right?”

She wasn’t asking Dick, and he knew. She was asking herself. But he nodded, reassured her. No, they hadn’t had a chance, after that. They had been too broken- and too caught up in their own sorrow to realize just how broken the other had been.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she finally said, giving his hand another squeeze. “I…I do want to be friends.”

“I’d like that,” Dick admitted, before she released his hand and he pulled back, cradling his coffee again.

“Where are you staying?”

“Jason said he’d put me up. There’s an empty apartment in his complex I’m going to look at.”

“ _Todd_?” Barbara crunched her face up a bit, sighing. “Sometimes I worry about you with him. He was always trouble. Sweet maybe, but trouble.”

“He’s the best friend I’ve got,” Dick reasoned, “And really, the only one at this point.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Besides, I missed him something fierce. It’ll be good to see him.” Barbara nodded, not disagreeing. Dick knew she didn’t dislike Jason, just didn’t like all his life choices. Dick couldn’t disagree- he really didn’t know what Jason was doing now, and probably didn’t want to ask. Somethings were better left to silence.

*

Dick didn’t stay long, but promised Barbara they would get lunch, catch up. And he couldn’t help but feel good, as he made his way across the city on the bus, towards Jason’s side of Gotham. Good because Barbara had been the one thing that had kept him away from Gotham for so long, but that had lured him back, as well. He had owed her at least his friendship- more, he knew. He owed her so much, for all the good years they did have behind him.

Dick made his way up the stairs, to Jason’s door, and knocked. It took a moment before he heard the chains on the door shifting, before it opened to reveal Jason in his jeans, without a shirt-

It took far less time for the man’s face to break into a grin, and his arms to wrap around Dick. “Dickie!” he nearly screamed, dragging him past the door way. Dick stumbled, held onto Jason for balance, laughing as the man nearly lifted him off the ground. “About fucking time you got your ass back here!”

“Good to see you too,” Dick said, as Jason finally released him, shutting the door behind them.

“C’mon, set your shit down. You want anything?” Dick shook his head, setting his bags aside and following Jason into the apartment.

“Thanks, but I had coffee with Barbara.”

“You saw Babs already? Shit, you want a drink then? Never too early when you’re dealing with the ex-fiancee.”

“Really, I don’t need one. It was…good to see her.” Jason rolled his eyes, simply out of teasing. Dick could see the words on his face- _of course you couldn’t even have a fucked up ex, of course she’d be sweet_.

“So I was expecting you to call me last night,” Jason said, falling onto the couch, Dick settling in next to him, “You miss your flight or something?”

“It’s…a long story,” Dick admitted, and Jason only rolled his eyes, a silent _I have all the time in the world_. Dick shrugged, broke into his little meeting with Damian on the plane, how Bruce had taken him to dinner, and then back to his place. He left out Bruce’s full name- not that Jason gave him much of a chance. He was giving a cheer and smacking Dick right on the back.

“You’re not even in the city and you hook up with a hot dad? Dammit Dick, you don’t waste time! I’m impressed!”

“We didn’t _hook up_ ,” Dick tried to correct, “Really. I bolted this morning, the kid curled up with me at some point in the middle of the night and I didn’t even notice. Kinda awkward and all.” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Yeah well, I hope you got hot dad’s number at least.” Dick only stared at Jason, who groaned very loudly. “You fucking didn’t are you shitting me Dick, what the hell-”

Jason stopped when a door opened, and then a slim young man was walking into the room, shoving something into a bag over his shoulder. “Jay you were supposed to wake me up, I slept through my first class already-” He stopped talking the moment he noticed Jason wasn’t alone, cheeks tinging pink. “Oh. Uh. I didn’t realize you had company.”

Dick glanced over the boy as Jason said, “Timmy babe, this is Dick. That friend I said was moving back? Dick, this is Tim.” Tim held up his hand in a little wave, and Dick smiled, waving back.

“I’ll just uh…let you guys catch up,” Tim offered, tugging on the strap of his bag as he finished crossing the room, leaning down to kiss Jason’s cheek. Jason turned, catching a hand behind his neck and pulling him in, kissing his mouth. Tim’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t pull away, until Jason’s hand was gone, and he could stand up. He gave Dick a very quick goodbye, then was hurrying out of the apartment.

The moment the door closed, Dick turned to Jason, with a loud, “Oh my god Jason _how old is he_?” Jason laughed, only shaking his head, and Dick continued, “Jesus please tell me he’s legal.”

“Fuckin’ chill, the kid’s twenty two.” Dick reached out, shoving Jason.

“I don’t believe you, he looks seventeen.”

“Should I call him back for his ID then? Swear on my life Dickie, he’s not a kid. He’s a good little student over at Gotham U.” Dick stared at Jason.

“You’re defiling Gotham’s youth,” was all he said, dropping his head back onto the couch.

“Well, at least _I would’ve gotten hot dad’s fucking phone number_.” Dick could only laugh breathlessly as Jason shoved him- knowing it felt good to be around him again. Thinking maybe it was good to be home.

*

He went out for a walk that evening, leaving with Jason who said he had some things to take care of. Dick was fairly sure he didn’t want to know what those things could be, and took the bus back across the city, to the nicer part of Gotham. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he had the urge to walk the streets, try to re-acclimate himself with all parts of the city. He’d get plenty of it with Jason, but this part, the bustling part he’d glimpsed with Bruce- well, he didn’t think he’d be visiting here too much.

He walked past the restaurant they had gone to, made a mental note of the name, then around the next block, taking note of a sushi bar, and a large cafe that were both new to him. Back before he had left, he and Barbara had tried to make a point to go out once every two weeks some place a little nicer, and they had tried most of the places these streets had to offer.

Now, everything was new.

It was just getting dark when he considered making his way back to the bus, when he heard someone calling his name behind him. He barely managed to turn, before a set of little arms were wrapping around his legs, and Damian was pressing his face into Dick’s jeans. A few paces away, Bruce was rushing after the kid, having called to Dick, in warning.

“Hey there little D,” Dick offered, smiling down at the kid. He still felt awkward around that morning, but couldn’t help smiling over the kid. He was too damn cute. Damian looked up at him, smiling, as Bruce caught up, reaching down to take one of Damian’s hands.

“Sorry,” he said, “Have I mentioned how good at escape he is?” Dick gave a nervous smile.

“It’s okay.”

“Are we interrupting something?” Dick shook his head.

“Uh, no. I’m not meeting anyone or anything. I just wanted to get some air. I was about to head back, actually.”

“Can we give you a ride?”

“No, really, that’s fine. I wouldn’t want to make you drive across the city.” Bruce only smiled.

“I don’t mind at all.” And, despite how awkward Dick had felt, leaving that morning, Bruce’s smile was just too damn charming, made his belly go tight. And, if that wasn’t enough, Damian was tugging on the leg of his jeans, smiling up at him.

So, when he found himself in the car, Bruce driving across the city and a happy Damian in the back, playing with his stuffed bat, he wasn’t as shocked as he could have been. Dick gave Bruce quiet directions while the man recounted his morning, and the hellish tantrum Damian had thrown when he woke up and Dick was gone.

“He literally hasn’t even eaten yet,” Bruce said, sounding exasperated. “I tried everything. Nothing.” He shook his head. “There’s probably no way I can convince you to get dinner with us, is there?”

Dick shifted in his seat, wasn’t sure how to say no. Because, honestly, part of him wanted to say yes. But he felt too awkward, even if Bruce seemed to be more then happy to see him. Besides, where ever Bruce was going to take him, he was sure he’d feel as much a child as Damian was, needing help ordering.

He had Bruce turn down a street and pull up to the apartment building, suddenly very aware that Bruce’s car was way too nice to be in this neighborhood- and embarrassed over it. But if Bruce noticed, he didn’t seem to care.

“Damian,” Bruce was saying, glancing back at him, “Can you say good-bye to Dick.” Damian pouted, shaking his head, and Dick pulled his seat belt off, turning in his chair. As he did so, his phone slipped out of his jacket pocket.

“He dude,” Dick said, and Damian looked right at him. “Your daddy told me you didn’t eat today. When you get home, can you do me a favor?” Damian nodded then. “Can you eat dinner for me? You know, I’ve got so much to do tonight, I think I might forget. And I don’t wanna go to bed on an empty tummy. Can a superhero like you help me out and eat for me?”

Damian was nodding vigorously, squeezing his bat. Dick grinned.

“You’re the best little D. Thanks for looking out for me.” He winked, before turning back, reaching for the handle of the door. He had it part way open when Bruce was holding his phone out to him.

“This fell out of your pocket.” Dick blushed, taking it.

“Aw jeez. Thanks. I’d be lost without it.” Dick climbed out of the car, turned to shut the door. “And thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime.” Then, before Dick could shut the door, “I put my number in your phone. Call me sometime.”

Dick shut the door before he could stop himself, stood staring dumbly as Bruce pulled away. Once the car was down the street he unlocked his phone, opening his contacts-

And sure enough, there was Bruce’s name.

Dick felt himself smiling, grinning even, and he pressed his phone against his chest, turning on his heels to make his way into the complex. He had his number. Bruce had given him his number.

Oh, Jason was going to have a field day with this.


	19. Cop/BadBoy AU pt3 (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [foxykazoo](http://foxykazoo.tumblr.com/) asked: "JayDick capeless AU cop/badboy, Jason finds Dick actually looking for him while pretending to be on patrol"

Jason took a drag on his cigarette, squinting even behind his sunglasses at the bright street. It was mid afternoon, and he was beginning to wonder what he was even doing out before dark. It was too bright, and he shouldn’t have done those shots before bed- he was nursing the slightest hang over. But it had been necessary, to play the underbelly socialite and play off the fact that he’d dragged a cop right out of the club, hadn’t left him to get his ass kicked an inch from his life.

No one else needed to know that Jason had fucked him senseless, that could be his little secret- and Dick’s, yes- but still. He’d had an image he needed to preserve.

And now he was paying for it. He took another drag. It was his second cigarette already since he had left his apartment, and he was thinking, if his head ache kept up, he’d simply chain smoke until he could pass out later that night again. He might have even rolled back over to try and sleep more- but he needed to dull the ache, and go figure he had _nothing_ for it. And he wasn’t interested in dipping into any of his product and getting himself high-as-fuck just to deal with a hang over.

He had walked the two blocks to the corner store, tossed out his cigarette, and went inside, buying a bottle of painkillers. In and out, two minutes if that, and he was already reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

He had it between his lips, working his lighter, then the police car pulled up to the curb. He had it lit, when the door opened, and Dick stepped out, pulling his own sunglasses off, tucking them in the pocket of his shirt. Jason snorted, could only imagine but the pretty boy cop was going to do to him now.

Yeah, he’s saved this guy’s skin, but he didn’t expect him to really get that. He probably didn’t even realize just how fucked he had truly been. Rookie blood.

And well, Jason could admit he’d probably been rather rough, in that alley. Never mind the alley aspect.

“Mornin’,” Jason offered, exhaling smoke from the corner of his mouth. Dick frowned, closing his car door and walking up to him.

“It’s afternoon.”

“Huh, is it? News to me.” He took another drag. “What’s the problem?”

“Take a ride with me.” Jason frowned, and quickly tried to mull over all the things Dick could try to charge him with.

“Front or backseat?” he joked, still thinking them over, when Dick shifted, had the faintest color to his cheeks. Dammit, the guy was cute. Jason almost wished he wasn’t.

“Front.”

Oh. Well, _that_ wasn’t what he expected. “Isn’t that against protocol?” Dick rolled his eyes.

“Just get in.”

Jason shrugged a shoulder, figured he didn’t have much to lose, and walked around the patrol car, getting in after Dick had climbed back in, leaned over and opened the door for him. He rolled the window down one he was in, holding his cigarette out it- waiting for Dick to yell at him to throw it out.

He didn’t. He pulled them back into traffic, and they were off- to where, Jason really didn’t know.

“So what, you miss me so much you’re going to kidnap me?” Jason took a drag, before dropping his head back. “Because if you’d kidnapping me, we are stopping for breakfast…lunch…whatever first.”

Next to him, Dick almost smiled. “You hungover?” Jason scoffed.

“What gave it away?”

“I can just tell.” Jason rolled his eyes, taking another drag.

“Yeah well, I had an image to repair after the mess you caused last night. I was up ’til fucking dawn buying drinks for everyone. And they expect you to keep up. Lemme just tell you, that club doesn’t serve liquor, it’s fucking paint thinner. Shocked I even have organs left.” Another drag, and then he tossed the cigarette away, leaving the window open so the breeze could rush through his wild hair. “So where are you taking me? Don’t tell me you circled the neighborhood waiting for me to show my lovely face so we could take a trip downtown.”

“I’ve been looking for you my whole shift,” Dick admitted, the color deepening on his cheeks. Yup, still cute. _Dammit_. “And we’re not going downtown. You said you’re hungry. I’m taking you to get the best burger of your life.”

Jason quirked an eyebrow, staring through his sunglasses at the cop. “You’re taking me to lunch? You do know plenty of your cop buddies know my pretty little face. Probably not good company to keep when on the clock.”

Dick shrugged a shoulder. “My shift ended almost an hour ago. I just kept on patrol in the hopes I’d run into you. You’re not that hard to find, you know.”

“Yeah well, customers have to know where to look too.” Dick winced a little at that.

“Either way, I’m off the clock. So we’re having lunch.” Jason looked away, closing his eyes, still needed to take something for the ache in his head.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why the hell would you waste your day looking for me for lunch?”

Dick was quiet as they turned, heading past the central Gotham City park. Quiet until they stopped at a light, and he tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “I owe you a thank you for last night. What I did was stupid. I just…There are some guys on the force moving to make a bust tonight, and I had sort of hoped…maybe I could kickstart it myself. You know. Get on the radar with everyone. I’m new blood to the force.”

Jason licked his lips, trying to sort through all that. He knew Dick was a rookie, that was easy to spot. Dedicated, but definitely fresh meat. “So, I should stay away from the club tonight?”

“Probably stay away for the next month,” Dick admitted, and Jason tapped his fingers on his thigh.

“Well, that’s thanks enough then. Not interested in spending the night behind bars.” Dick only nodded, the car moving again. Jason waited for him to continue- to comment on what had happened after, but there was nothing. And Jason, for once, chose to keep his mouth shut as well.

*

Jason decided not to fight Dick on the whole best burger of his life thing. Whatever Dick had gotten him- because Jason literally had said he _didn’t care_ as long as it could induce a heart attack and feed an army- was ridiculously good, and fulfilled both of those requirements. He was content to sit in silence as his headache dulled, and he began to feel human again.

Dick chattered, idly, about various things. Police life- those who liked him on the force, those who didn’t. Trivial small talk that Jason realized he was listening to- which was stupid. But he didn’t stop.

Even when they were getting back into the cruiser, even as Dick was retracing their steps, and Jason was lighting another cigarette.

“You never stop,” he noted, and Dick went quiet for a second, confused. “Talking.” Dick blushed, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Sorry. Nervous habit. Everyone points it out.” Jason almost felt a little bad then- seemed like maybe Dick was a little self conscious about it.

God why did he even _care_?

“What are you nervous about? Am I that _terrifying_? Please say yes.” Jason was grinning to himself, taking another long drag. Dick said nothing, sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fingers drumming on the steering wheel as they stopped at a light.

“You’re just…” he paused, took a breath. “You’re just really attractive and I haven’t stopped thinking about last night.”

Now, _that_ hadn’t been the answer Jason had expected.

Dick cursed at himself, raking a hand back through his hair as traffic began moving again. “Look, forget I even said that. Where am I taking you?”

“Uh, just…where you picked me up. Can’t really have a cop dropping me off at home.” Dick nodded, and Jason shook his head, taking his final drag and tossing his countless cigarette away. With the way Dick had completely failed to even mention their little incident in the alley, he assumed the man just didn’t want to talk about it. Not that they had talked about any of their little happenstance get togethers on any of the occasions- but well, Jason knew he could have easily crossed a line the night before.

But Dick was nervous to be around him because of it? Because, what, he thought Jason was hot? Well fuck, Jason was willing to fuck Dick into the very next week still, and he wasn’t nervous around him.

But maybe he could admit he was acting strange- even for himself.

Dick pulled up to the curb, and Jason pulled his sunglasses off finally, running a hand back through his hair. He could get out of the car, and this could be over and done with. Dick had paid him back- hell, any lunch that helped deal with a hangover was a blessing in Jason’s book, but that tip about the bust at the club- that was huge. And probably quite the line Dick had to cross.

 _To hell with it_. Jason reached out, grabbing Dick by the collar of his shirt, tugging him over. Dick turned, and the moment he did Jason had his mouth, kissing him hard. Dick gave a little surprised sound, tensing, before he fell into it, moaned around Jason’s tongue as he kissed him until Dick couldn’t breathe.

“Go home and change,” Jason whispered, licking at Dick’s lower lip, “And come back here without the flashy car.”

“Why?” Dick whispered, and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Well, you effectively destroyed my evening plans,” then, after a moment, “Which, I’m grateful for. So, I suddenly have an evening free.” He leaned in, kissing just under Dick’s ear, sucking on the skin for just a moment- not long enough to leave a mark, just to get Dick to make a noise. “And maybe I’m inviting you back to my place.”

Dick blushed more. “Um…” he tried to glance away, and Jason sighed, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Relax. I didn’t say I was asking you in to fuck you senseless. Believe it or not, there’s more to my life then sex and drugs.” Dick flinched a little, as if Jason might bring down some god’s wrath for referencing what he did while in that car. “Besides, your ass is probably not ready for that again.”

This time Dick blushed, mumbled something, and Jason only smiled. Actually smiled.

“So is that a yes or a no?”

Another moment of hesitation, and then, “Yeah, okay.”

Jason’s smile turned into a grin. A little company might do his soul some good, he was sure.


	20. Cop/BadBoy AU pt4 (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "*Taps the mic* for the badboy/cop au, Dick is 90% sure he is in over his head. He really has no idea has it got this far. From fucking in a back alley, to Jason trusting him enough to let Dick tie him to the bed, and then stay the night after. He's pretty sure there's no way this can end but crashing and burning but man is he going to enjoy the ride. Or can we has some backstorys?"

For a moment, Dick has to wonder how he’s gotten to this point. For just a moment, he’s pulled out of the lust-haze he’s been in since he walked two steps into Jason’s apartment after his patrol that night. Jason- Jason who is on his back on the bed, his hands tied up over his head with Dick’s tie. Jason who is naked and hard, just as Dick is, who is talking to him with a voice that is almost sweet.

No, not almost. _Is_ sweet.

“You’re doing a good job,” he whispered, and Dick tries to figure out how he even managed- how had Jason even asked him to do this? Jason’s hand had been down the front of his pants before the door had even shut, had dragged him to his bedroom before Dick could even get his shoes off. Dick could have sworn Jason’s mouth had been everywhere, hands not far behind, stripping him of his uniform, piece by piece.

And god, Jason had dropped to his knees like he’d practiced the movement a thousand times, had sucked Dick to the back of his throat and worked slick fingers into him, all the while Dick sure his knees were going to give, that he was going to fall, probably pass out. It didn’t make sense, how Jason touched him, how intense it always was.

And here he was, running his tongue along Jason’s cock, staring up at him while those intense eyes took him in, mouth set in a proud sort of smirk. “Fuck Dick, you ready?”

 _Was he_? Was it really a question? It didn’t seem to matter that Jason was the one tied up, he still held the control. He’d told Dick to blow him and Dick had never moved so quickly, never with so little thought. Not that he could complain- it only left him aching, left him wanting Jason’s mouth around him again-

Or better yet, what Jason was asking.

Dick tried to stop caring about how it had gotten to this point- because that could wait, oh it could _definitely_ wait- and shifted his hands around the bed, trying to find the bottle of lube. Jason watched, the entire time, with that amused smirk, until Dick had it, was pouring some onto his hand, stroking Jason’s cock with it until Jason rolled his head on his neck, pushing his hips up.

“Dick that’s enough- fuck don’t _get me off_ before I’m inside you.” Dick shivered, couldn’t help it, and crawled over Jason, trying to find a comfortable position. He reached behind him, trying to steady Jason’s cock, to line it up with his own body- realized it was harder then he thought. He was so used to Jason doing this, holding him steady, making sure he was filled so sweetly.-

Jason was snickering at him, and Dick glared at him, pouting with his kiss swollen lower lip. Jason tugged on his restraints, leaning up and snapping his teeth at Dick. “Careful sweetheart, I’ll bite right into that if you pout again.” Dick shivered, wanted Jason’s teeth on his lip- and then smiled, finally steadying himself enough that he felt the head of Jason’s cock pressing against his hole. He lowered himself, slowly, watched as Jason fell back to the bed, tipping his head back until Dick had him fully inside.

Dick sucked on his lip, leaning down slightly to splay his hands on Jason’s belly for balance. He lifted his hips, pushing back down, doing his best to ride Jason without the reassuring grasp of his hands to hold him steady. Jason groaned, pushing up to help meet his movements, leaving Dick breathless. He tossed his head back, closing his eyes and focusing on his balance, fingers flexing over Jason’s abs. Jason was groaning, little curses and breathy gasps, and then,

“Fuck Dick, you look _so good_ , you have no fuckin’ idea.” Dick lifted his head, watched Jason tug gently on the restraints- not really testing them, but the sentiment was there. Dick smiled playfully, before his lips fell open as he moaned. Quickly, he pulled his hands away from Jason’s belly, leaned back so he was gripping his thighs for support, switching to a slow sway of his hips.

Jason groaned, dropping his head back. Dick licked his lips, dared to let go of one of Jason’s thighs, reaching back to grasp his own cock, trying to stroke with his own rhythm. Dick gave a frustrated grunt when he couldn’t get them to sync up, couldn’t move in just the right way like this.

“I-I need your help,” Dick gasped, releasing his cock and leaning forward again, one hand running up along Jason’s chest, his finger tips just brushing Jason’s nest.

“Sorry,” Jason forced out, even as he thrust up, had Dick moaning again. “This is _all you_ babygirl.” Dick whined, pushing himself back up, a strange hot shiver running through him over the pet name, his cock throbbing. He wrapped his hand around the base again, stroking, watching Jason smirk at him, thrusting up into him and meeting each rock of Dick’s hips. Dick tossed his head, felt his muscles clenching, once, and Jason hissed. “Fuck, you wanna come Dick?”

Dick nodded, sucked his lip into his mouth as he stroked, faster, trying to hard to keep his rhythm on Jason, but it was slipping, without his hands to hold him. Still, each time Jason thrust up, he pressed right into that spot, and that was all Dick needed. Jason was mid curse, staring at the way Dick’s cheeks were flushed, all the way down his neck, when Dick arched his back, giving a cry as he came, body holding onto Jason tight. Jason’s curse choked off and he tugged, hard, on his arms, pushing up hard into Dick and letting him ride out his orgasm.

Dick slowed, gasping for breath, until he wasn’t moving at all, staring up from heavy lashes, at Jason. Jason, who had that smirk on his face that made Dick’s body clench again, gently, just once. “I could watch that all day,” Jason admitted. Dick looked away, embarrassed, his cheeks unable to flush further then they had. “Give me a hand out of this, babe.”

Dick glanced back. “But, you didn’t…” Jason shrugged a shoulder, and Dick frowned. There was no way Jason was just passing up an orgasm. Not like this. Dick shook his head, leaning over him, one hand gripping at his shoulder, the other past his side, onto the bed, so that Dick could lean in close.

“Not until you come,” he whispered, lifting his hips and sliding them back down. Jason groaned, and Dick pressed his mouth to his neck, lapping at his skin before sucking, moving his hips as quickly as he could manage, without Jason helping to guide him. He moved from the bruise he had sucked into Jason’s neck, began another, heard Jason whine under his breath, thrusting up as best as Dick let him. He was cursing, broken words about being so close, and Dick opened his mouth wide, pressed the points of his teeth against Jason’s skin, barely hovering over the point of breaking his skin.

Jason was gone at that, shouting Dick’s name, and he could feel that wet heat filling him. Dick shivered, didn’t pull off Jason’s cock until the man had sank down into the be beneath him. Only then did he reach up, pulling on the tie and freeing Jason’s hands.

Jason let them fall out to his sides, relaxing his shoulders, as Dick rolled off him, taking up the space against his side. He pressed his forehead against Jason, both laying there in silence, trying to catch their breath-

Until Jason was squeezing one arm around him, and when Dick glanced up the man kissed his hair, chuckling into it.

“Impressive,” Jason admitted, “You shocked me there.”

“How?”

“Well, normally I wouldn’t even think of letting someone tie me up.”

*

Dick learned- because Jason had no filter- that Jason liked the idea of it, but never his partners enough for it. And when he had tried, it had always been a disaster. Dick was the first to deliver on a decent round.

And Dick didn’t even try to hide his beaming smile over that.

The two showered shortly after, which Dick had expected to turn into another round. Instead, it was him washing Jason’s hair, and laughing as he pulled it into all sorts of directions. Jason had threatened to kick him out of the apartment naked and wet as he was, but he had been smiling as he said it, and Dick felt about as threatened by him in that moment as he would have by a three day old kitten.

Dick was still toweling off his hair when Jason’s phone started buzzing, thrown on his nightstand. Jason grabbed it, scrolling his thumb over the screen a few times, before he reached for his jeans, left thrown on the floor.

“I have to step out for a minute,” he said, grabbing a shirt. Dick stared at him, and Jason didn’t elaborate. Didn’t need to. Dick just locked away as the man finished getting dressed, crawled into the bed as he disappeared into another room. He heard him rummaging around, and closed his eyes, pressing his face into Dick’s pillow. “Don’t move,” Jason called from the door, before he slipped out, and Dick was left utterly alone.

Try as hard as he could, he couldn’t distract himself enough to block out what he knew Jason was doing. What he was sure those texts had to be about. And the cop in him, he was rolling over, screaming at Dick that he could be putting a stop to it, could have Jason’s ass for possession alone, let alone intent to sell.

But as he pushed himself up, leaning against the window along the side of Jason’s bed, he could see him, stepped away from the street light, talking with two faceless people. What stood out most was the burning end of Jason’s cigarette. Dick stared at it, even as it was held between his lips, Jason rummaging into the inner pockets of his leather jacket. Only did he look away when Jason was pulling something out- couldn’t bring himself to watch that.

Instead he lay back down, pressing his face back into Jason’s pillow, inhaling. He felt slightly drowsy, the shower definitely hadn’t helped, and knew he’d have to get himself up and dressed as soon as Jason was back, or he’d never make the drive home.

It was a few more minutes before Jason was back in the apartment. Dick heard the locks, the switch of the light, and then his footsteps in the bedroom. He glanced up as Jason stripped, tossing his clothes aside and crawling back into bed in just his underwear, after clicking off the bedroom light.

“What are you doing?” Dick whispered as he shifted away from Jason’s spot. Jason reached for him, tugging him in against his chest, and Dick didn’t fight it.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. I was heading to bed? Why? Did you want another round?” Jason raised his eyebrows, and Dick simply shook his head.

“I should go, then.” The arm around him tightened, and Jason yawned.

“Really?” Dick furrowed his brows, confused. “Oh god Dick, lemme spell it out for you. I’m asking you to stay, alright?” Dick leaned his head into Jason, saying nothing, and the other man waited a moment, before, “Should I just take your silence as a yes?”

Dick nodded, and Jason rolled over, onto his side, able to fully wrap himself around Dick, allowing his lover to rest under his chin.

“Good. Then g’night.” Dick hesitated a moment, before nestling in, kissing at one of the bruises he’d left on Jason’s neck, very gently.

He was staying the night.

He had, to this point, never stayed with Jason. He had been in the apartment before, sometimes up to ridiculous hours, but he had never slept here. That seemed to suggest something more then what this was, a string of great sex that Dick couldn’t find the strength in his heart to say no to.

Sure, sometimes he watched shitty movies with Jason, sometimes they got food fit for hangovers. But Dick could see that fitting into the scheme of things. His turning a blind eye on Jason’s activities in order to have his breath ripped from his lungs.

Granted, he had never laid around, knowing that Jason was dealing right outside the window. And a part of him was still gnawing at him for that. One thing to ignore what he didn’t see, what he only heard about- another entirely to know what was going on, right under his nose, and simply to look in the other direction.

Dick yawned into Jason’s skin, felt the man shift, a hand rubbing gently against his spine. He couldn’t tell if Jason was sleeping or not, guessed it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t driving now, he could feel sleep pulling at the corners of his closed eyes, clawing up his throat. He was exhausted.

He could deal with his moral ambiguities come morning.

He could deal with figuring out exactly how he had ever gotten to this point after he had some coffee.

And maybe, while doing all that, he could figure out if he would be doing a walk of shame to his car, or if this was somehow morning just a string of strange one-night stands.


	21. No Shame (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Prompt: Imagine your OTP cuddling the morning after sex. Person A gets up to gather their clothes and person B, turned on by A’s bare body as they stretch and bend over to pick up clothes, starts to idly masturbate. A’s reaction is up to you. With Jaydick because I could totally imagine Jay laying there all cocky and just jerking off because he can. No shame with that boy"
> 
> Inspired by a prompt I reblogged, but wasn't sure which ship I wanted to write it for. Really, JayDick was the best answer.

Dick tossed the blanket off his legs, as much as he wanted to curl back up in his bed. But he hadn’t _planned_ on crashing in Jason’s room the night before, and the morning was already mostly gone- with his luck, Damian would’ve crashed into his room for morning cuddles, like the kid was apt to do, and would’ve found him missing.

And it wasn’t like Dick needed to try to explain to anyone what he was doing in _Jason’s bed_.

Jason was watching, having tried to convince Dick to stay a little longer, to fuck the family finding out. Who cared anyway? Wasn’t like Dick hadn’t fucked within the family before. What was the problem now?

Oh, yeah. Barbara was a golden child. Jason, on the other hand, was that problem child you _forgot_ to mention at parties.

But he had almost had Dick, he was sure, when he’d gotten a thigh between his legs and managed to get the older man to rock against him. Might have succeeded if Dick hadn’t been sure he’d heard something in the hallway, hadn’t been so sure it was the quiet footsteps of Damian looking for his morning snuggle partner.

Jason would never get over the fact that the _demon spawn_ was a cuddle bug. _Never_.

He watched Dick trying to gather up his clothing, sweat pants left sprawled on the floor, his tshirt thrown across the room, on a chair. He was ignoring the shirt for the moment, hunting for his underwear. Jason smirked to himself, knew they had landed on his side of the bed, just under the corner, but decided he liked watching Dick bend over too much, or the way his hips held a sway as he walked.

He was too damn pretty, really. Jason was sure it was a sin, the pretty pink of Dick’s mouth, the way his eyes were so bright. Even his scars were pretty, the way they all broke otherwise smooth skin. There was one on Dick’s right thigh that Jason swore he nearly broke open again the night before, had ruined it so thoroughly with his mouth. But the _whines_ Dick had made- they could have killed Jason.

Jason could see it now, just barely- his view mostly consisted of the perfect curve of Dick’s ass, and he was not about to complain about that. The only thing he could complain about was the fact that he was hard, and Dick wasn’t in the bed with him. Without much thought, Jason’s hand skimmed down over his stomach, grasping at the base of his cock, giving it a firm stroke under the sheet.

Dick was mumbling to himself, cursing over his lost underwear still. Jason chuckled, pushing his hips up slightly. Eventually, he knew Dick would turn around and catch him- he was planning on it. But until then, he was content to stare blatantly at Dick’s ass, the curves of his thighs, as he felt a spark of pleasure run down his spine, his hand twisting just below the head of his cock.

“How they fuck did they disappear?” Dick asked with a sigh, turning around finally. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He stared at Jason- and the younger man realized Dick had _no idea_ what was even happening.

He couldn’t believe how utterly blind Dick would be sometimes.

“Uh-huh.” Jason curled his toes in the sheet a little, tugging it down lower onto his stomach.

“Do you even care? Jason I have to get back to my room I can’t-” Dick cut off when Jason tugged the sheet lower, down onto his thighs, openly pushing up into his hand, exhaling a low moan, holding Dick’s pretty blue gaze. The older man felt color rising in his cheeks, and Jason could even see it creeping down his neck, “Jason _really_?”

Jason just gave him a smug smile, tipping his head back slightly as he ran his thumb over the head of his cock. “C’mon back to bed pretty boy and help me with this.”

Dick rolled his eyes, storming around the bed and finally finding his underwear. He grabbed them, hopping into them as he complained. “I can’t fucking believe you. Seriously. Do you want the family to ask why I’m in your room until the fucking afternoon? You really wanna deal with that?”

“Pretty sure I-ah,” Jason lost his words for a moment, pushing up into his hand, really wishing Dick would shut up and just crawl into the bed with him. “Don’t give a shit.”

Dick rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up once his underwear were finally settled. They did nothing to hide the fact that he was half-hard. “I give up with you.” He hopped awkwardly into his sweatpants- which made him seem far less intimidating, and if Jason wasn’t already too into this, he would have stopped to laugh at his lover.

Dick seemed ready to storm out, to leave his shirt entirely as he walked around the bed, when he turned suddenly on his heels, crawling on and batting Jason’s hand away in a single motion. Jason pulled back, only to have Dick’s mouth replace his own touch, and his head fell back into the pillows. Dick placed one hand on his hip, steadying the way he tried to push up into Dick’s mouth, keeping him nearly still as Dick moved in a way too perfect way, his tongue pressing along the underside of Jason’s cock as he did so.

Jason was absolutely sure Dick was way too good at this.

He was gone in less then a minute, groaning as Dick swallowed around him, didn’t pull off until Jason was limp and panting against the bed. Then, in a swift movement, Dick swung his leg over Jason’s hip, straddling him and leaning in, kissing him with wet lips and a bitter tongue that had Jason clutching at his biceps, trying to keep him from escaping.

If there was something Jason loved, it was kissing Dick right after he’d come in his mouth.

“If I get questions from anyone,” Dick breathed, pulling back to glare at Jason, “I am going to kill you. And you owe me the best blowjob of my life for this.”

“Yeah,” Jason breathed, head still spinning a little bit. “Anything you want Dickie babe. Just come back tonight and I’ll take care of you.” Jason forced a smirk, trying to hide how undone he still was, and Dick couldn’t hide the curl to his own lips.


	22. HS AU pt6 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "HS AU: So Tim is staying the night and they are both being all cute and cuddly. It starts heating up a bit. (nothing too bad, but they are both getting a little carried away) Then Jason gets a bit too caught up in it all and gets a bit too rough. He relizes and totally freaks out thinking hes ruined everything and just does a runner, needing to get away. (this is where we get the whole self-loathing Jason wandering the streets in the middle of the night) Tim is super worried and goes after him. But he cant find him anywhere. Somehow Tim manages to get himself into a bit of a sticky situation with some of the nightlife around gotham and very nearly gets a good beating (please dont hurt little timmy too much. He kinda just gets roughed up a bit) Jason gets there in time to stop anything too bad happening and kicks everyones ass for even thinking of laying a finger on Tim. Tims pretty shaken and Jay feels terrible. Lots of cuddling and quiet talking and kisses are needed when they get home. Skin on skin contact is the best way to get over trauma like that. Oh and Tim should have adorable Superman underwear. "

Tim was beginning to think the couch in Jason’s room was his favorite place to be. As it was, he was curled up under Jason’s arm, leaning into his chest, enjoying the fact that they could just exist together so easily. For once, Jason’s TV wasn’t playing a horror movie- but rerun of the most recent animated Superman movie that Tim had convinced him to watch.

Convince might have been a bit harsh, he really only had to mention it and Jason had agreed. Whatever interest he had shown at first in Tim’s obsession with comics seemed rather genuine, and that gave Tim butterflies.

The house was otherwise silent above them. Tim finally learned that Jason had family out of state, and his parents were off visiting one of his grandparents every weekend, who wasn’t doing so well. He didn’t seem phased at all- blatantly said his dad’s side of the family were all pretty much assholes and he wouldn’t miss any of them, and Tim had stopped asking after that.

Not that Tim’s mother had ceased asking him about his _little friend_. Well, aside of that, she had referred to Jason as his _boyfriend_ on several occasions, and each time Tim had blushed a deep pink and had to correct her. Jason wasn’t his boyfriend. They were just hanging out. And making out. And Tim got these ridiculous butterflies around him.

But Jason has never said the _b word_ , and well, Tim didn’t want to set himself up for disappointment.

“Wait, am I missing something?” Jason asked, breaking Tim’s thoughts. On screen, Tim realized they were referencing the movie before last.

“Oh crap. Uh yeah, some stuff from the last movie. Want me to catch you up?” Jason seemed to think on it for a second, before shrugging his shoulder as the channel broke for a commercial.

“Maybe after the break. C’mere for a second.” Jason shifted his arm around him, trying to tug Tim up, and the boy complied, squirming until he could face Jason, who tugged him in for a kiss. Tim smiled, reaching up to grip at Jason’s tshirt, licking at his lower lip and getting a chuckle from the older boy. “You’re catching on.”

“I’ll catch on more if you kiss me more,” Tim whispered, even as he blushed. He still get this strange sort of embarrassment over kissing Jason- but he loved it, loved the way it made him feel a little hot under his skin, the way his body pulsed with each slide of the older boy’s lips.

Jason grinned, reaching up to stroke his thumb over Tim’s lower lip, before leaning in again. “Think I can do that.” Tim clung to him harder, squirming, positioning himself so he was straddling one of Jason’s thighs as the other boy licked at his lips, slipped his tongue past them to tease Tim’s. Tim shivered, rocked against Jason’s thigh without even realizing it, so caught up in the fact that Jason had skipped the usual sweet way he warmed Tim’s lips up, kissed them until they tingled before he was inside his mouth.

He wasn’t complaining. He liked this.

Tim felt Jason pull back, thought he might end the kiss entirely- but then he was sucking on Tim’s lower lip, and Tim squirmed again, rocking against Jason’s thigh. Didn’t matter that he was still in his jeans, Jason could feel Tim responding through it all, and suddenly his teeth were on his lip, nipping, and Tim _whined_ in a way that nearly drove Jason to throw him down off the couch and climb on top of them.

Instead, Jason reached behind him, grabbed at Tim’s ass, fingers almost bruising even through his clothing as the other reached up, sank into his hair and tugged. The kiss broke and Tim’s head fell back, Jason leaning in to lick at his neck as the boy gasped, shivered when teeth traced over skin.

And then Jason was sucking on his skin, and Tim liked it for a moment, before it started to actually hurt, before he realized he’d have a bruise, and then he was squirming, putting his hands on Jason’s chest and pushing gently. “Jason,” he whispered, felt teeth on that overly sensitive skin and shiver. “Jay _stop_.”

Jason pulled away the moment the word stop was half way out of Tim’s mouth, staring at him with shocked eyes as if he hadn’t even realized what he had been doing. His hands left Tim’s body, and Tim wanted them back. He’d liked that touch, liked the way Jason had bit his lip- but the pain of Jason trying to leave a hickey on his neck wasn’t something he really liked, he was fairly sure.

“I’m sorry,” Jason whispered, and when he reached for Tim it was to guide him off his thigh, back to the couch next to him. Tim tried to fight back, but Jason was moving to stand and he had no choice. When the older boy stood up, he raked a hand through his hair, glanced back at Tim- at his pretty eyes with the large pupils, his too-pink lips, and there was color rising in his own cheeks. “I…I have to go outside for a minute.”

“Jason, wait,” Tim whispered, even as the older boy was rushing around the couch, out his bedroom door. “Jason!” But he was gone, and Tim groaned, slouching down on the couch and pressing his hands up onto his face, the heels of his palms against his eyes. He knew Jason had been working hard to keep under control around him, ever since that night two weeks when Tim had gotten drunk. And it hadn’t been too hard- Tim hadn’t been able to come over the last weekend, so the only making out they’d done were a few times in Tim’s room, before his parents had gotten home. That had stayed fairly mild.

But there was something different, about being in Jason’s room, about being utterly alone.

And Tim knew that Jason was convinced that if they went too far, he’d hurt Tim. Tim wasn’t about to say he wanted to try everything under the sun with Jason- but he was sure if Jason gave in a little bit, he wouldn’t be hurt _at all_.

*

Jason tugged on his own hair as he walked, cutting through his neighbor’s backyard and coming out on the side street. A car drove past, ignoring him, and somewhere down the road he could hear the loud sounds of a party. He wished it was silent, wished the night would just stop for a minute, give him a chance to breathe. He needed it.

Needed something to slap some sense into him. What had he been thinking? Tim didn’t need a bloody bruise on his neck. Hell, he didn’t even think Tim would be into that- and was pretty sure now he had his answer. But he had gone into autopilot, had been used to doing that before, had felt a pulsing ache between his legs that had told him to mark and cling and get Tim to squirm as much as humanly possible.

Which were all things he needed to not do.

Jason tugged on his hair again, walking past the house that was blasting the music. The lights inside were a mess, some bright, some dark, and there were a few people outside, holding large red cups. College party. Jason had been to enough of them in the past, with Dick. Had met Kori at one, actually. For a while had thrived at them, as the pretty kid that could pass as older then he was.

Now all that he got was his stomach turning.

He was glad that no one called out to him, that the guys seemed pretty interested in shouting to whatever music was blasting out through the open door. He slipped further down the street, finally stopping at the corner to lean against the bus stop sign.

He liked Tim. He really, really did. He was sweet, had the kind of smile that gave Jason butterflies. And he was interesting- sure, maybe he was a nerd, but Jason really liked that. And he hadn’t ever been able to enjoy that with anyone else. Besides, the way Tim lit up when Jason asked him about the latest Wonder Woman comic, or what he thought of the most recent line of Superman collectible figures was absolutely precious.

Didn’t help that Tim was so attractive, that he had those pretty blue eyes with thick lashes, that his cheeks flushed so easily- that his mouth was so kissable. Didn’t help that Jason was guilty of thinking about that when he was alone at night, hand shoved down his sweatpants wishing that Tim was kissing him while he touched himself, wishing that he could rut against Tim until the two of them had found some sort of release.

Maybe he was a little pent up. Maybe he was a lot pent up. But that didn’t excuse him losing his control, and he knew it. He didn’t want to mess this up. He wanted to keep Tim around. Wanted to have endless nights on his couch with the younger boy smiling next to him. Wanted this to be something.

Wanted to be able to say that Tim was his boyfriend, when people asked what was going on between them. As it was, all he could do was shrug and smile at school. And maybe people were throwing the term around, but Jason couldn’t be sure how Tim felt about it. After all, Jason was out about his sexuality, but maybe Tim had some reservations- even if it’d be hard to deny, what with the way Tim often hung off Jason’s arm in the hallway. With the fact that Jason had kissed him openly a few times.

Jason jerked his head when he heard loud laughter down the street, followed by a slurred, “pretty boy like you all alone on a night like this?” Loud. Too loud. The drunk college guys, he was sure. Jason frowned, was going to remain where he was for a minute, still stuck on his own anger at himself, when he realized that he had left Tim alone in his room-

And that Tim was not the kind of person to just sit there while Jason wallowed around in his own self loathing. That Tim was a _pretty boy_.

Jason took off running down the street, back towards the obnoxiously loud house. It was probably only a matter of another two hours before the cops showed up due to noise complaints. The guys had moved from near the door, three of them, two hanging back jeering while sloshing their cups around, a third leaning against one of the cars in the driveway, boxing someone against it.

Jason didn’t need to see. He knew. He fisted his hands, baring his teeth as he yelled, “Hey!” All three turned, and around the guy’s arm, Jason saw Tim squirming, trying to push past him, relief washing over his face at the mere sight of him. “Let the kid go.”

“Find your own,” the guy said, turning his back to Jason. “This one’s cute as fuck. Looks like a girl. I dig it.”

Jason gritted his teeth, and without a thought rushed towards the guy, hooking his arm up around his neck and pulling him back. Drunk, his balance was already impaired, and having not been braced for it, he tumbled down onto the ground easily, landing on his back. Jason turned, putting himself in front of Tim and facing all three of them, arms out as if he could act as a wall between the three and the younger boy.

“He _is_ mine,” Jason hissed, as one of the guys passed his cup to the other standing one, stalking towards Jason.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he said, and Jason realized this guy had a few inches on him, easily. And a bit of bulk. And for the first time in quite a while, Jason felt his age, felt like he was still a kid to these guys. Whatever confidence he used to have around college kids was gone- but he was pissed enough that it didn’t seem to matter.

Jason balled his hand into a fist and ran forward, hitting the guy right under his ribs before the guy could grab him. The drunk guy stumbled, and Jason went to shove him down, but got a sloppy punch right to his eye. He stumbled back, reaching up to hold it, felt the area throbbing instantly.

“Motherfucker,” the last guy said, tossing the drinks down and throwing himself at Jason. Jason managed to fall to the side, so the guy got nothing but his chest landing on hard pavement, and Jason kicked out at him, got him in the shoulder. By now the first two had gotten back up, and Jason scrambled back an inch, two, thinking maybe he’d get a good kick in before they got to him-

When a siren started up the street.

Jason was sure he’d never been so happy for cops in his life.

“Fuck,” one of them said, reaching down for their fallen friend. Jason pushed himself up, winced where his arm had dragged on the pavement, and rushed over to Tim, grabbing his hand. He pulled him to the next house, into the back yard, cutting through, making a run to his own house. He could hear Tim panting behind him, but the boy didn’t loosen his hold on Jason’s hand, or even fall behind.

By the time they were rushing in the backdoor of Jason’s house, the lights from the police cruisers were bouncing off the neighborhood houses. Jason locked the sliding door, drew the curtain, before leaning against it, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.

Close call. Way too close.

When he opened his eyes again, Tim was staring at him.

“Did they hurt you?” Jason asked, and Tim only shook his head. “Good.” Jason closed his eyes again, one throbbing, before he felt Tim’s gentle fingers on his arm, lifting it, turning it. Jason cracked one eye- the one that didn’t hurt- open, and saw Tim was studying the skinned area. “It’s no big deal,” Jason said, but Tim shook his head.

“You need to clean it. Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Yeah, bathroom down the hall.” Tim pulled away, heading off into the house, and Jason took that moment to walked to the front of the house, checking to make sure the door was locked, before heading back down into his bedroom, flicking his light on. It was the only light on in the house- although he assumed Tim had turned one on in the bathroom- but it would be easy to think no one was home, if the cops decided to drive around the neighborhood. 

Jason was sure he didn’t have anything to worry about, as he tugged his tshirt off and chucked it across the room, seeing a few tears in the back from the pavement. Was even more sure when Tim walked into the room, and he knew the house was utterly dark to the world.

Tim walked over to his bed, set down the little first aid kit and a big bottle of peroxide on the bed, before he sat down himself. Jason sighed, walked over, and the boy leaned in, looking at his arm in the light. He wasn’t speaking, as he opened the kit and pulled out a large cotton swab- looked as if he was in deep concentration as he poured peroxide onto it and began dabbing at Jason’s arm.

Jason hissed, but didn’t tug away, let Tim clean the abrasion in silence, before putting a large bandage over it. Jason flexed his arm, to ensure it was stuck on properly, before Tim was trying to stand up, barely giving Jason a chance to step back. He was pressed flush to him, reaching up to tilt Jason’s head, look at his eye.

“That’s going to bruise.”

“Not my first black eye,” Jason said with a shrug. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Tim nodded, but didn’t say anything else as he moved the stuff off the bed, onto the floor.

He wasn’t normally this quiet.

Jason wanted to ask, but Tim was crawling onto the bed, pulling the blanket back next to him as he sat back against the pillows, tucking his feet under the blanket. Jason hesitated, before he crawled on, over Tim’s legs, and sat next to him. Tim grabbed his arm, lifting it so he could snuggle into his side, and Jason clutched him, felt Tim’s fingers skimming along his bare stomach.

“They could’ve really hurt you.”

“They could’ve really hurt _you_. I wasn’t going to stand around and watch that.” Tim was quiet for a second, sucking on his tongue in thought.

“You said I was yours.” Jason felt his own cheeks heat up, glanced down to see Tim staring up at him. Staring with those pretty blue eyes, with his hair that was a bit too long tickling his cheek bones. “Did you mean it?”

Jason was quiet for a second, felt his heart pounding up into his throat. Realized that everything he had feared about claiming Tim, about wanting to put a name to this, he couldn’t escape in that moment. He had said it, and he had meant it.

“Yeah,” Jason breathed, “Yeah, I meant it. You’re mine, as much as you’re willing to be.” Tim didn’t move for a second, and Jason felt his stomach clenching up, so sure he was over stepping some sort of boundary here, some silent, unwritten line. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Tim. I mean, we don’t have to use any labels and-”

Tim stopped him, leaning up and covering Jason’s mouth with his. Jason stared for a moment, before he hooked his arm around Tim’s waist, held him against him as they kissed- this time sweet, this time slow.

“I like you,” Tim whispered, “A lot. And…maybe I want labels. Maybe I…” He blushed, the sweetest shade of pink, “Maybe I wanna be your boyfriend.” He glanced down, as if he was too embarrassed to look at Jason then, and Jason could only smile- grin, if he was honest.

He wasn’t sure he’d had butterflies as strong as he did in that moment since his first month dating Dick. And even then, he wasn’t sure if they could compare.

“C’mere cutie,” he whispered, tilting Tim’s chin up and kissing him again. Trying to regain his control here, to keep calm so that Tim wouldn’t think he was against the idea. “You want it, you got it.”

“Really?” Tim pulled back, staring at him, wide eyed and grinning, and Jason could only laugh.

“Yeah really. I mean, we’re pretty much dating anyway, right?” Tim blushed- but nodded, and hooked his arms around Jason, pulling him down onto the bed. They both laughed, Tim kissing the corner of Jason’s mouth, giggling into his cheek as Jason pinned him down, laughing too.

Laughing as he kissed him, as Tim ran his fingers up over his bare shoulders. Laughter turning to a little sound as Tim’s blunt nails dug at the space between his shoulder blades, as Tim licked at Jason’s lower lip.

That low sound turning into a moan from Tim when Jason sucked on his tongue.

Jason tried to pull away then, and Tim gripped him, shaking his head. “Don’t go,” he whispered, tangling their legs together. “ _Please_?”

Jason shook his head. Stared down at the pretty boy, his pretty boy, _his boyfriend_ , and wanted him, just as badly as he had the moment before he bolted from the house. Wanted him like they had never been interrupted. Except now he didn’t have his shirt on, and they had moved to the bed.

And Tim was _under him_.

Tim pushed his hips up, into Jason’s, sucked on his own lower lip for a second. “Jay, you’re not gonna hurt me.” The flush on his cheeks was traveling down his neck now, and his hands had moved down Jason’s arms, rubbing along his biceps. “I promise.”

Jason hesitated a moment, before he leaned down, nudged Tim’s chin up and gently kissed his neck. Tim gave a little sigh, tilting his head back more as Jason kissed up to his ear,nipped at his ear lobe as his hand skimmed down his stomach, pushing his tshirt up a little before getting to his jeans, popping the button open. Tim gave a little whine, pushed his hips up as Jason tugged the zipper down, his jeans falling down a little. Jason pushed himself up, glanced down at the red waistband of Tim’s briefs, the hints of blue fabric littered with small red Superman logos.

He smiled. Couldn’t help it. His boyfriend was a nerd and it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

And somehow, Tim being so utterly _cute_ made Jason want him more.

Tim reached up, covering his face, realizing Jason was staring at his underwear. He felt silly and childish then, was sure Jason was going to laugh at him.

Instead, all he heard was, “Hey Timmy, c’mon. Look at me.” Tim pulled his hands away, forced himself to look at Jason, who just kept smiling at him. Kept smiling as he leaned down, kissing Tim sweetly.

“You’re precious,” he whispered. Then, voice a little deeper, after another kiss, “If I do anything you don’t like, tell me to stop.”

Tim nodded, leaning up to kiss Jason again. Gave him the smallest smile as he ran his hands up along his bare chest, over his shoulders again.

Then gave him a breathy moan as Jason’s hand slipped down past the waistband of his underwear.


	23. Irrational (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "Heyy if you're still accepting prompts, what about DickDami, Dick started avoiding biting Damian's neck because the brat never bothers with hiding the marks and Dami is quite adamant about getting this aspect back to normal"
> 
> I am weak for DickDami. So weak.

Dick crossed his arms, staring back at Damian, who seemed to have somehow merged a scowl and a pout on his face. “No,” Dick said again, sure of his words, even as the teen shifted in his lap.

“What do you mean _no_?”

“Exactly what it sounds like Damian. No. If you’re not going to hide them, I’m not leaving a single mark on you.” Damian scoffed, and Dick sighed. It was bad enough that the family had to know about their relationship, but Dick wasn’t interested in rubbing it in anyone’s face. Especially Bruce. But Damian had always refused to hide the bruises Dick seemed to leave so easily on his neck and collar bone. Hell, it seemed as if he flaunted them, like a big middle finger to his father and everyone else.

More often then once, Dick had seen Bruce take his morning coffee out of the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to stare at the mess on Damian’s neck.

And the last thing Dick wanted was a rift between he and Bruce- or really, any of the family.

When Dick didn’t budge, Damian rolled his eyes, squirming off of Dick’s lap and standing up. “I’m suddenly not in the mood,” he muttered, making his way out of the room, leaving Dick to sit alone on the couch as he was sure Damian made his way up to his room, to sulk.

It was bad enough that he was dating a teenager. Worse that it had to be Bruce Wayne’s son- he was pretty sure he had inherited Bruce’s brooding and sulking tendencies.

In fact, he was _positive_.

*

Dick got the cold shoulder treatment for two solid days- not a text, not a call, nothing at all. The first twenty-four hours hadn’t been that bad- Damian was just pissed and being childish. He could handle that.

The second made him wonder if he’d fucked up royally.

So, Dick was relieved when he joined the family for patrol that evening, and Damian actually greeted him. In fact, he acted as if nothing had happened- even took a moment to sink his hand into Dick’s hair when he appeared in his Nightwing suit, pulling him in for a brief kiss. Dick would have rather it not been in front of everyone- but Bruce simply turned away, and Dick figured it was far more lowkey and tolerable then the bruises he had been leaving on Damian’s neck.

Stephanie hadn’t turned away though, and had actually watched, bemused smile on her pretty face. Dick was sure she’d tease him later.

He expected to be partnered with her, but Damian instead kept at his side- something that didn’t happen often, especially now that they were a _thing_. Bruce claimed he did not want the two to distract each other.

Dick figured what he really meant was he didn’t want them shrugging off their duties and making out in alley ways-

Which, if Dick was honest, was exactly what they were doing in that moment.

Damian had him pressed up against the graffiti covered wall, boxed in by his strong but lean arms, sucking on Dick’s lip until he was mewling into the teen’s mouth. He was dizzy, didn’t remember the last time he had breathed, but Damian was rubbing against him in ways that would have been too much for either of them, had they left their cups behind. Still, Dick was hard, and reached for Damian’s hips, grabbing him by the hem of his tunic and pulling his hips in, holding them against his own.

“Bruce finally lets us patrol together and this is how we end up,” Dick gasped, fully resigned to the fact that Gotham was going to have to survive without them for a moment. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d lost sight of their assigned goal. Wouldn’t be the first time Dick had gotten the teen off in an alley. “You want me to…” he trailed off for a minute, before Damian pulled away, reaching up the straighten his tunic.

He clicked his tongue, glancing over Dick, before, “Actually. I’ve changed my mind.” Then, without another word, Damian turned. “Let’s go before we’re missed, _Nightwing_.”

Dick watched him go, gawked if he was honest, blood still humming hot through his veins. What the hell had just _happened_?

*

It took a few more days before Dick finally realized what Damian was doing.

Taking his revenge in the best way he knew how- by taunting Dick, quite openly, and leaving him completely flustered. And unsatisfied.

Dick had stopped by once, needed to talk to Bruce about a case he was trying to work, and had caught Damian training. Which, on a normal day wouldn’t have been a big deal- but suddenly the teen seemed to believe it was necessary to train without a shirt, and in the smallest shorts Dick had ever seen. For a moment, he wondered if he had stolen them from Tim.

And he kept finding reasons to walk by the two as they talked in the cave. Even stopped to lean a hip against the counter and ask them about the case- something Dick knew Damian didn’t have much interest in. He’d tried to discuss it with him before _the incident_ , and Damian had found it _dreadfully boring_ , not something that should be a priority.

Now he was eager to ask whatever questions seemed best to prompt Bruce to speak more and more, leaving Dick forced to stare at him, at the sweat on his chest and shoulders, each scar that broke obscenely inciting copper skin. Each curve of lean muscle that Dick was sure he had memorized, or at least how they moved and reacted under his finger tips.

Then, that evening when he appeared to work the computers for the evening- giving Barbara a much needed night off that she nearly refused to take, Damian had sauntered around, suddenly needing help with his suit- asking Stephanie to make sure everything was laced into place right in front of Dick.

Even worse was when they returned, and he started stripping _right in front_ of him, losing the cape and the tunic before making his way to the showers. Dick was sure he was going to lose his mind at that point.

“What’d you do to him?” Stephanie leaned over his shoulder, mask gone but otherwise still in full gear.

Dick huffed a sigh, then, “I told him I wasn’t leaving bruises anymore.” There was a pause, before Stephanie burst out laughing, leaning her head down so her forehead rested on Dick’s shoulder. He frowned.

“Glad you find this so amusing.” She continued to laugh, biting her lip to try and quiet herself.

“Sorry, sorry. Just- over a hickey? _Really_? God you’re in for it when you actually disagree on something serious.” Then, after a moment, “Just give the kid the stupid bruises he wants. They’re hot.”

“He doesn’t even try to hide them! I feel like it’s just…rubbing everything in Bruce’s face. I don’t want to do that.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Relax. If Bruce really had such an issue with you and the brat, pretty sure you’d be in a full body cast or something. Besides, he’s a consenting adult. Can’t really fault him for wanting you to rough him up a bit. Hell, I wouldn’t hide ‘em either.”

Dick sighed. “You’re no help Stephanie.”

She grinned, reaching up to tussle Dick’s hair. “Never claimed I was.”

*

“I know what you’re doing.” Dick had his arms crossed, watching as Damian walked through a side door, shirtless with his running pants just an inch too low on his hips. He gave Dick his best naive face- which was, if Dick was honest, _too damn good_ \- before walking past him, into the kitchen. Dick turned and followed, watched Damian pull a water bottle from the fridge and take a long drink, still silent. “Are you even listening to me?”

“I hear you chattering on, but I haven’t the faintest idea about what, Grayson.” Damian gave him one long look, before capping his water bottle and turning, making his way from the kitchen. Dick got one long view of the perfect curve of his spine, the dimple at the base of his back that his thumbs fit so perfectly against, and he was chasing after him, following him upstairs.

“You know exactly what this is about!”

“I’m afraid I don’t.” Dick followed Damian down the hallway, watched as the teen opened the door to his room. He followed Damian in, who turned an quirked one eyebrow up as he let the door close. “Are you going to follow me into the shower, Grayson?”

“You’re taunting me!” Damian clicked his tongue, and Dick reached out, grabbing him by his biceps and turning the younger man, shoving his back up against the door. Damian dropped his water bottle, his head tipping back slightly, throat exposed, bared. Free of bruises, of the evidence that Dick had ever even touched him.

“You must be losing your mind.”

“Only because you’re a goddamn demon,” Dick hissed, before he leaned down, covered Damian’s mouth with his own. He nipped at Damian’s lower lip, before kissing the corner of his mouth, his chin, and then down to his throat. He lapped at his skin, tasted sweat and salt as Damian’s breath hitched. “Death of me,” Dick mumbled into his skin, as he reached down, tracing the V that led down into Damian’s running pants, the perfect crease of muscle that had Dick’s head spinning.

Damian shifted his hips, giving a little moan as Dick’s fingers dipping just below the waistband of his pants. Then, as Dick’s lips closed over his skin, the older man sucking on the flesh in that sweetly painful way, Damian openly groaned, reaching out with one hand to grab at the hem of Dick’s tshirt.

“Hate you,” Dick mumbled into his neck, into the tender spot where the blood was rushing to the surface, turning red. It’d bruise before nightfall. Dick nuzzled his neck, hand slipping all the way into Damian’s pants, wrapping around him as Damian’s other hand hooked under his own waistband, tugging it down to rest below his cock. Dick gave him a tight stroke, before whispering, “Please tell me you’re done teasing me.”

He didn’t look up, didn’t need to. He could hear Damian’s smug smirk in his voice. “As long as you’re done being irrational, Grayson.”

Right. He was the irrational one.

Dick growled, low in his throat, twisting his hand around the head of Damian’s cock and sucking on a fresh, salty patch of copper skin. He’d show Damian irrational.


	24. 10 Minutes (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "All this talk of neck hickies.... Make me think... Of... Thigh hickies thoigh.... Imagine... Dick doing that on damis ... I'm dead"
> 
> Srsly, you say DickDami to me on tumblr and I just started writing.

Dick dragged his teeth along the swell of Damian’s ass, felt his young lover shudder, the teen pressing his face into the pillows of Dick’s bed. By Dick’s count, he had a good ten minutes before Damian could get hard again- and well, Dick knew he could accomplish a _lot_ in ten minutes.

“Spread your legs babybat,” he whispered, before nipping his ass, and Damian obeyed, still trying to remember how to breathe, still so fucked-out that whatever Dick asked, he’d do. Still incapable of any real thought over then the man’s voice and the humming pulse of his post-orgasmic bliss.

Dick grinned, hands roaming up over those well muscled but slim thighs, over his ass- giving it a gentle squeeze- before his thumbs settled in the perfect dimples at the base of Damian’s spine, hands reaching out towards his hips. He held him down as he dragged his tongue up one thigh, licking away a trail of his own cum that had leaked from Damian’s tight body. The boy shuddered again, a little sound muffled by the pillows, before Dick stopped, towards the back of his upper thigh, and sealed his lips over the skin, sucking.

Damian mewled, as Dick’s thumbs rubbed into his back, as the man forced blood to rise up just below the skin. When he pulled away the once-copper skin was now red, would be angry, bruised, given a few hours. Would match the mess of bruises along Damian’s neck and collar bone- even the one near the crease of his elbow, where Dick had sucked as the boy had ridden him as if he might die if he had stopped moving.

Dick moved to the other thigh, sucking a near identical mark into Damian’s skin, could hear him gasp out _Grayson_ , lifting his face from the pillows, trying to glance back over his shoulder. Dick grinned into his thigh, kissing once, before pushing himself up, guiding Damian so he could roll over onto his back. 

Not hard yet. But by the way he was squirming, Dick didn’t doubt Damian wanted to be.

He leaned down, kissed the near flat plane of his stomach, tongue teasing over the ridges of muscle. He stopped to suck at a scar, a perfect break in his dark skin, and Damian tipped his head back, gasping, incapable of real words as it felt like Dick might suck the scar wide open. It ached, it stung- and it made Damian’s heart hammer up into his throat.

Dick moved lower, back between Damian’s thighs, turning and kissing the tender inner skin, before sucking there, as well. Damian’s hand clutched at the rumbled sheets, his breath ragged, and Dick chuckled into his skin.

“You like when I mark you, don’t you, little D?” Damian gave a little moan, a throaty sound, and Dick dragged his teeth over the now-red patch of skin. “You’re going to be such a mess, babybat.” He sucked another spot, just a little lower, knew Damian’s toes were curling in the sheets.

“Grayson,” he gasped, as Dick switched to the other thigh, lapping at the skin with his hot tongue before sucking _again_. Dick pushed his thighs further apart, thumb rubbing over one of the tender spots he’d left, and looked up just in time to see Damian’s cock twitch. 

He grinned. The teen was half hard now. Impressive.

He turned, nosing at one old scar, before he sealed his lips just above it. He wondered how many bruises he could leave before Damian was leaking all over his belly.

By the sounds the teen was making, it wouldn’t be many more.


	25. Arranged Marriage AU pt4 (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [fishfingersandjellybabies](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/) asked: "Are you still taking summertime prompts? (I didn't see anywhere if you were still taking any or not, so completely ignore and delete this if you're not, I'm so sorry) But OH MAN that timdami Arranged Marriage AU is /killing/ me. Any chance of continuing it? Like, when they wake up that next morning in Damian's room? Or Tim kissing Damian/making the first move? Or whatever you want, I just need more of it, it's so GOOD."

Damian heard his alarm going off, the angry chirping from his phone over on the nightstand. He pressed his face down into the soft warmth he found instead, thinking at first it was his pillow-

But it smelled floral, it moved like silk, and then actually shifted in his arms, mumbling something. His eyes cracked open, caught glimpses of Tim’s pretty hair as the lithe man curled into him more.

And then Damian remembered Tim coming into his bed the night before.

And suddenly he was wide awake, with his heart in his throat.

Tim yawned, pressing his mouth into Damian’s collar bone, and Damian moved on reflex, clutching him tighter. A little sound from Tim’s throat, and he didn’t seem to mind it. “Your alarm,” he mumbled, and Damian simply stared down at the top of his head, before he realized the damned thing was still going off. Begrudgingly, he pulled one arm from Tim, rolling onto his back and reaching for his phone, managing to turn the blasted alarm off and dropping it back on his nightstand, before rolling back.

Tim was looking up at him now, with those too pretty blue eyes, the thick black lashes. He looked drowsy, like he could curl back up into Damian again. Like he could sleep the morning away.

Damian wanted to, in that moment. More then anything.

“You better-” Tim’s speech broke as he yawned, “get in the shower. You have that meeting.” Damian said nothing, knowing it was true- and silently but unhappily pulled himself from Tim, and the warmth of his bed. He padded towards the doorway, glanced back when he reached it to see Tim had flopped back down, was pressing his face into _Damian’s_ pillow, clutching it close.

*

Damian could barely even focus long enough to wash his hair, to not end up with Tim’s tropical smelling body wash in his hair. He was too busy trying to simply _understand_ what had happened.

Tim had come to his room. They had gotten over their little tiff. And then… _he had stayed_. He had stayed. And Damian had pressed his mouth to the nape of his neck and held him, like he was dreaming.

Tim must have shifted in the night, curled up into Damian, and that had Damian’s chest constricting. He wanted to call his father and tell him he was ill, dying, that he had suffered some horrible accident and couldn’t make the meeting. That he needed to spend the day in bed.

With Tim.

Damian turned the water off, slicking his short hair back before opening the sliding glass door, grabbing his towel, and working the water from his body. He wrapped it around his waist, before hesitating at the door.

What if Tim was still in his bed?

Taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself, Damian opened the door. He was barely a few steps out when he could smell coffee, heard Tim’s gentle movements coming from the kitchen. And, as much as he wanted to find his husband still curled up around his pillow, Damian was relieved.

He made his way quickly to his room, shutting the door and leaning back against it, exhaling with relief. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Tim now, for a moment. Not exposed as he was. Not with the way he knew he’d want those long fingers to skim over his copper skin, to sink into his short, wet hair.

When he opened his eyes and glanced at the bed, he forgot Tim’s fingers for a moment. Forgot the way he wanted his husband to simply touch him.

Laid out neatly was his suit for the day. Tim had made the bed, left everything out for him, down to socks, even. Damian stared for a moment, before he walked over, reaching down to run his fingers over the black matte tie, set with shining black paisley, visible only in the right light. Tim had encouraged Damian to buy a few things like that, on one of their required public outings- said black on black was such a good look.

Damian smiled without meaning to.

*

Once dressed, he made his way towards the kitchen. He had the tie around his neck, but left undone over his lavender dress shirt- which he had forgotten he owned. Which he could admit looked perfect against his darker skin.

Maybe he could convince Tim to dress him every morning.

He found Tim stirring his own mug of coffee. He looked up when Damian walked in- and Damian felt those eyes dart over him, actually looking at him. Looking _over him_.

He forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat.

Tim left his mug of coffee, closing the distance between them and gently grabbing Damian’s tie. “You look good,” he whispered, looping the fabric and carefully tying it.

“Maybe you should dress me more often.” Tim gave the smallest of smiles, amused, as he adjusted the tie to sit perfectly under Damian’s collar.

“Maybe.” He paused for a moment, then, “I…I appreciate you talking to Bruce about the Narrows Initiative. Really, Damian. I do.” Damian smiled, wanted to reach up, to push the hair away from Tim’s pretty face, to run his thumb along one perfect cheek bone.

“It’s something I should be informed on. Especially if it means so much to you.” Tim glanced away, and Damian could see the faintest color on his cheeks. The smallest hint of pink. 

“I packed your bag,” Tim offered, glancing at the kitchen table. “And there’s coffee. I don’t want you to be late.” Damian smiled- couldn’t help it, and saw the color rise even more in Tim’s cheeks. His own heart was doing crazy flips inside his chest, flips he didn’t know it capable of.

“Thank you.” Tim nodded, finally pulling away, and Damian grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, taking his travel mug in his hand. Tim followed him through the penthouse, towards the door.

“Will you be late?”

“Wish I knew. Depends on if I get roped into spending the whole day with these businessmen.” Damian made a little face, and Tim laughed, reaching up to cover his own pretty mouth. Laughed because, even if this was a world that was Damian’s by birthright, he didn’t exactly fit into it very well.

“Maybe we can…get dinner, if you’re not.” Damian paused, having opened the door, and turned, facing his husband again.

“I’d like that.” Tim pulled his hand away, smiled, before reaching out to grasp at Damian’s tie. For a moment he simply stroked the fabric with his thumb, before tugging Damian in by it, leaning up and pressing his mouth gently against Damian’s mouth. He tasted sweet, like his coffee, like Hazelnut and sugar, and even though the kiss was just a brief glide of lips, Damian was sure Tim had someone inhaled his heart up through his throat in the brief expanse of time, had swallowed it down.

Damian didn’t know what to say, as Tim released his tie. But his husband gave him one more smile, the soft kind, before whispering, “Have a good day.”

Damian was thinking that now, he really just might.


	26. Snow Angels (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "“you were trying to make a snow angel but the snow is too deep and you can’t get back up and i’m trying to decide whether to keep laughing at you or help you” au With Dick and Damian! (Either one doing the snow angel would work)"

Gotham hadn’t seen snow like this in Dick’s memory. Definitely not in Damian’s lifetime in the city, at least.

The fact that Bruce had even kept the family in, instead of going out on patrol- well, it was like a mini miracle. Seemed the city and the entire surrounding area would simply have to have one quiet night.

Not that Dick thought even Gotham’s crazies would want to venture out in this.

He, however, was more then pleased to be tossing himself onto his back, away from the path his legs had created. He fanned his arms out, brushing away and flattening the snow around him. From the path Dick’s strides had created, Damian stood, hat pulled down over his forehead, scowl hidden by his scarf. His gloved hands were shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

“Grayson, what in the world are you doing?”

“I’m making a snow angel.” Dick fanned his legs out as well, grinning as he stared up at the dark night sky, the snow that continued to fall in heavy flakes. Damian clicked his tongue, and Dick pushed himself half up, grinning at the teen. “C’mon, give it a try!”

“You are absurd. I cannot believe I even followed you out here.” Dick rolled his eyes.

“C’mon little D. Just one. For me?” Dick gave him his sweetest smile, that charming kind that had his pretty eyes sparkling, and Damian was rolling his eyes, huffing out a sigh.

“…Fine. If it will shut you up.” Dick grinned, clapping his gloves hands together, snow falling off them, onto his torso. Damian eyed him for a second, before, “What do I do?”

“Toss yourself back, and fan out your arms and legs. You just move ‘em til the snow is flat. Like wings and a dress.”

Another click of his tongue. But Damian glanced behind him, at the growing piles of snow, before tossing himself back. The snow pushed between his hat and scarf when he landed, some flaking against his neck, and he shivered as he just lay there for a second. He could hear Dick shuffling about, standing up.

“You gotta move, Dami.” Damian rolled his eyes, and even if Dick couldn’t see it, he would have guessed it was exactly what the teen was doing. With another huff, Damian fanned his arms, brushing the snow away and flattening it beneath his body. His legs followed a moment later.

He stared up at the same sky Dick had, as snowflakes landed along his nose and cheeks like freckles, clung and melted in with his eye lashes. Dick was watching from the path, lifting on his tip toes to see Damian, surrounded by the snow.

Damian exhaled, watched his breath dance in the air, and felt a strange sort of excitement in his belly. It was stupid, surely, this childish game Dick had him playing, but- but there was something about the snowflakes on his cold cheeks, the movement of his limbs. The fact that he knew Dick was smiling, because he had indulged him. 

It was stupid, childish, that he could feel this way. But he _did_ , when it came to Dick.

“Am I done, Grayson?” he forced himself to call, before Dick could possibly realize he wasn’t as miserable as he was acting.

“Yeah alright. Come back up here.” Damian pushed himself up, sitting, glancing around at the mounds of snow that surrounded him, trying to figure out to best way to stand and not ruin the imprint. He managed to get half up, before losing his balance, and slipping back, falling half in the new snow pile. He hadn’t even emerged from it when he heard Dick laughing- so hard he was sure the man had to be gripping his sides.

Scowling, Damian went to push himself up again, floundered, and this time nearly rolled into the snow, sprawling out as it fell over him, thick lines of it along his torso. He huffed out a sigh, could still hear Dick laughing.

“I am going to choke you with your own tongue, Grayson!”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Dick said, wiping at his eyes with one gloved hand. “Smooth moves you have there, babybat.” Damian clicked his tongue. “Want a hand?”

“No.” Damian tried to shove up, managed to roll over to get a face full of snow. At this point, the snow angel he had created was a disaster, and he was a few feet from it. Frustrated, he flailed, trying to get up again, managing to get to his knees before falling again.

More laughter, and Damian was sure he would _kill_ Dick when he got to him.

“Fine,” Damian exclaimed, giving up. Dick shook his head, folding his arms.

“I dunno, maybe I shouldn’t help you.” Damian flailed again, pushing himself up, trying to peer over the piles of snow.

“Grayson I swear on all things you hold holy-”

“Okay, _okay_ , I’m coming.” Dick pushed off the path, long, slow strides through the heavy snow. “You could at least ask nicely.”

Damian huffed, could see Dick’s shape against the falling snow. “Give me a hand, _please_.” Dick grinned, finally reaching him and reaching down, letting Damian grasp at his wrist.

“See, was that so har-” Dick’s speech was cut off when Damian tugged, pulling him off balance and into the snow- and completely on top of Damian. Dick gave a surprised cry, and Damian’s breath rushed out when the older man fell on him. “Brat!” Dick laughed, as Damian squirmed beneath him.

“You’re crushing me!”

“Should’ve thought of that before you pulled me down here!” Dick grinned, delighted that he still seemed to have the upper hand here- but did shift, pulling his weight off of Damian’s ribs so the teen could breath. Damian sucked in a dramatic breath, and Dick frowned. “Hey, I’m not that heavy.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you would stop eating all those cookies Alfred keeps insisting on making.”

Dick pushed himself up, staring down at Damian with wide eyes. The teen grinned, the bratty smile that had Dick shaking his head, chuckling to himself. “Death of me, brat.”

“You’re not the one being suffocated-”

“Oh shut up or I’m leaving you out here all night!” Dick reached for Damian’s hat, pulling it down, over his eyes, most of the bridge of his nose. The teen squirmed, reaching up to shove it back, and as he did Dick leaned down, kissing his cold lips quickly. He pulled back as Damian could finally see again, smiling fondly at the teen. Damian’s cheeks tinged pink, the sweetest color against copper skin, and Dick felt his chest caving in. “You’re blushing.”

“It is _cold_ , Grayson.”

“You’re blushing because I _kissed you_.” Damian glanced away, reaching up, placing his hands flat on Dick’s chest, as if to push him away. He gave the smallest of attempts, one that wouldn’t have even moved Titus. “Admit it.”

“You are being ridiculous Grayson, I would not-” Damian was cut off when Dick leaned down, kissing him again. This time slower, heavy sides of his mouth, which felt warm against Damian’s somehow, and the teen was pushing up, his hands sliding over Dick’s shoulders, to grip at the back of his jacket as he followed each of Dick’s movements. When Dick tried to pull away Damian lifted his head, didn’t let him. Dick smiled into the kiss, licked at Damian’s lower lip, and was rewarded with his mouth opening, with his warm tongue sliding along Dick’s.

When Dick tried to pull away, a moment later, Damian allowed it, falling back flat against the ground, staring up at him. The color on Damian’s cheeks had darkened, a flush along his cheekbones, even down past his scarf, and Dick could see each little rapid exhale, in the air.

Dick stared down at him, shocked for a moment, before the smallest of smiles crept up on his face. “You’re blushing more.”

Damian, for once, had no response.

And Dick might have kissed him again, if Stephanie’s voice hadn’t broken the otherwise silence of the night, calling out from the back door of the Manor. “Dick! Damian! If you two don’t come in now I’m drinking your hot chocolate!”

Without a word Dick pushed himself off Damian, standing up and reaching down, offering him a hand again. This time Damian took it and allowed Dick to help him up, clung to his arm as they waded through the snow, back towards the original path Dick’s strides had created- now half full from the snow drifts and fresh snow flakes.

Damian didn’t release his arm, even when they managed to get back on the partial path, making their way back towards the Manor. And Dick didn’t ask him to. He liked the way Damian pressed his face into his shoulder, liked the contact.

Liked the way his own lips were buzzing still. And he realized, as they finally got to the door and Damian pulled away, trying to dust the snow off his body, that Damian was still blushing-

And that, when his scarf tugged lower down his face, there was the faintest of smiles on that normally scowling mouth.


	27. HS AU pt7 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "can you continue your highschool au the morning after they finnaly did stuffs"

Tim shifted, pressing his face closer into Jason’s bare chest, sighing as the older boy squeezed him. Jason shifted then, rolling onto his back, leaving Tim half sprawled on him, the sheets tangled down around their legs, the blanket kicked away half way through the night. Tim opened his eyes, blinked into the dark of Jason’s room- had no idea what time it was, considering Jason had no windows.

He rolled away from Jason, reaching over the bed for his jeans, rummaging around his pockets. He found his phone, tugging it out and unlocked it, saw it was nearly 11- and he had three missed calls.

From his mom.

Tim groaned, flopping back down onto the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. He was wearing nothing except his Superman underwear, and even though he had been rummaging through his jeans for his phone, it was only settling in now just how _undressed_ he was.

Which only reminded him about last night.

Tim’s cheeks flushed a deep pink and he forced himself up, out of the bed as Jason sprawled out on his stomach, still asleep. Tim took a deep breath, told himself to calm down, not to think about it, that he had to call his mom back before she drove over to Jason’s house and waltzed right in.

Tim exhaled, unlocking his phone again and hitting her name. The phone rang a few times, before, “There you are sweetie.”

“Hi mom,” he whispered, trying to not make it seem obvious that Jason was still sleeping. He’d made his way to the opposite end of the room. “Sorry, I just got up.”

“Exciting night?” Tim thought back to Jason’s fight with the college guys, tried to stop his mind from tracing past that point- not to think about Jason without his shirt, Jason above him, Jason’s hand down his underwear-

“Uh, I guess. You know. Easy to lose track of time when you chain watch movies.” She laughed, and Tim swallowed. “So what’s up?”

“Just wanted to check in. I heard about the police being in that neighborhood last night?” Tim didn’t need to ask how, he knew his mother gossiped every chance she got in the morning with their neighbor- who somehow seemed to know everything that went on in Gotham city. “Something about a party. Now, be honest with me Timothy- your little friend didn’t take you to that, did he?”

“No mom,” Tim whispered, “He didn’t. We were in…watching movies all night.” She sighed, and Tim knew she believed him.

“Alright. When should I pick you up today?”

“Uh. I dunno. Can I text you? I think,” he glanced back, saw Jason had rolled back over, pushed himself up, was sitting in the bed watching him. “I think we’re gonna get something to eat. I’ll ask.”

“Okay. Love you sweetie.”

“Love you too mom. Bye.” Tim hung up, crossing his arms and holding his phone idly, feeling so exposed under Jason’s gaze. The older boy watched him for another moment, before he climbed out of the bed, stretching.

“What’d your mom want?”

“Just to check in. And to ask when she should pick me up.” Jason nodded, and Tim shifted a little. He wanted to dive into the bed, to hide under the sheets, wrap himself up in them. He was in his underwear-

“Hey.” Tim glanced away from the bed, realized Jason was walking towards him. The older boy wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. “You okay?”

“…I’m in my underwear.”

“So?” Tim blushed, and Jason gripped his chin with his free hand, tipping it up, smiling at him. Reassuring. “Tim. It’s not a big deal. You’re adorable. Right down to your Superman underwear.” The blush deepened, and Jason laughed, rolling his eyes and leaning in, kissing Tim’s temple. “Besides, I saw more last night.”

Now, Jason was sure there was no way for Tim to be redder then he was in that moment. Tim leaned forward, pressed his warm face against Jason’s bare chest, and Jason let him- wrapped his arms around him and held him, rocking him gently.

“I’m just teasing you, cutie. I promise.” Tim nodded, believed him- was simply so used to being self conscious that it felt odd to be so exposed around Jason- Jason, who was still the thing of Tim’s wet dreams, if he was honest- and that the other boy was so calm about it. So at ease.

Well, okay, he hadn’t been calm the night before.

“You’re okay though, right?” Tim looked up as Jason spoke, and the older boy looked worried. Slowly, Tim nodded, forced himself to smile, to give the reassurance he knew Jason needed, just as badly as the acceptance Tim needed.

“Definitely better then okay.” Jason smiled at him, turning just the right way, and Tim reached up, grabbing his chin suddenly and turning his head more. Around one eye he had a bruise forming, darkening, mixes of red and purple. Tim’s flush disappeared, and Jason reached up, gently touching some of the bruised skin and wincing.

“Huh. Well, I figured it’d bruise.”

“I am so sor-”

“Don’t even start apologizing Timmy. Not your fault. Also not my first black eye.” He smiled, giving Tim another hug. “Let’s get showered and get some food, okay? I’m sure your mom won’t want you to go home on an empty stomach.”

*

Jason had put worn sunglasses during their walk into the city to get brunch. They hid the black eye perfectly, much to Tim’s relief- although he still felt bad, wasn’t sure how Jason would hide it at school. Or if he would.

He’d seen Jason with bruises before.

Jason held Tim’s hand for the entire walk- barely seemed able to let go of it while they tried to eat. Tim definitely didn’t mind, kept flashing back to Jason calling him his, the night before.

Yes, while growling it to those drunk kids-

But more so after, when he’d touched Tim like no one ever had.

“You’re being really quiet,” Jason said, and Tim glanced up at him. There must have been a look on his face, because Jason just smiled, and didn’t ask why. Inside his shoes, Tim’s toes curled.

He texted his mom while they were out to be at Jason’s soon- as much as he didn’t want to go, Tim knew he had to. There was still math homework, an English paper he needed to finish- things he didn’t really want to care about, but knew he had to.

He had just finished throwing everything in his bag when his mom texted him, said she was outside. Tim stuffed his phone away, lifting his bag over one shoulder, barely had a hold on it when Jason was throwing an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in and kissing him. Tim melted into it, grabbed at his tshirt with his spare hand, tilted his head so Jason could run his tongue along his teeth in a way that had him shivering.

“I’m walking you out,” Jason said, grabbing his sunglasses and putting them on. Then, before they even got to the stairs, he took Tim’s bag as well. Tim didn’t fight him- only took his hand, tangling their fingers together as they made their way through the house, out the front door.

The front passenger window of the car rolled down before Tim could even open the door, and Tim’s mom was leaning half way across the car, smiling at the two of them. “Hi sweetie.”

“Hi mom.” Jason smiled, offering a wave with his free hand, and Janet’s smile grew.

“You must be Tim’s little friend. We haven’t properly met! I’m Janet Drake.”

“Jason. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Drake.” Tim pulled the door open, cutting off the conversation for a moment and slipping in, finally untangling his hand from Jason’s. He handed Tim his bag, and Tim tucked it down at his feet.

“It’s a pleasure sweetie. I never see enough of Tim’s friends. Maybe you can come over some night for dinner.” Jason smiled, even as Tim blushed.

“I’d like that.” Jason leaned down, reaching out and ruffling Tim’s hair, making the younger boy blush further. “See you at school tomorrow Timmy.”

“Bye Jay.” Jason closed the door, and when he made it back to his front porch, waved as the car pulled away.

They weren’t even down the street with Tim’s mom said, “He seems like a fun kid. You two had a good time?” Tim nodded. “You should have him over for dinner. I’m sure your father would love to meet him.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Tim breathed, slouching down in his seat. Janet laughed.

“Am I doing that embarrassing thing again? Sorry sweetie, it’s just good to see you having fun. So…” she paused for a second, glancing at him quickly, before looking back at the road, “Can I say the _b word_ now?”

“Mom!”

“I’m just asking! I know what it’s like to be young Tim, and you know, if that one little kiss was just that then okay. Just keep me in the loop is all I’m asking.” She paused again. “He’s cute Tim. You could do a lot worse.”

Tim rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile off his face. He knew she was just trying to be supportive. And she had teased him off and on ever since that one kiss she had seen the end of. 

“Yeah,” Tim admitted finally, “he is cute, isn’t he?” Janet grinned, tapping her painted nails on the steering wheel. “Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“…You can use the b word now.”

Tim almost regretted saying by the way his mother squealed, but couldn’t fight down his own smile. Silently, to himself, he mouthed the word _boyfriend_ , and felt his cheeks heating up, the smile on his face growing.

Tim wasn’t sure he could be any happier then he was then.


	28. Like Water (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "Since we're all about those hickeys (all about those hickeys~ * sing songs * ) imagine the day after an especially rough session, they are being lazy on the sofa and Dick is spending his sweet time kissing all of the aching spots on Dami's body, lips gentle, fingertips brushing lightly over the patterns he had created ouo"
> 
> It wasn't really a prompt, we were just discussing DickDami but...well. I'm weak. I couldn't resist writing something.

Dick had his back pressed against the back cushions of the couch, Damian laying on his back, pressed up against his chest. The teen was propped up slightly, eyes focused on the book in his hands as Dick nuzzled the crook of his neck, one arm draped over him.

Dick liked lazy afternoons like this. When Damian was willing to be coddled, to let Dick snuggle up to him while he read, did anything, really. The Manor was quiet, Bruce and Alfred somewhere, yes, but Dick couldn’t tell where- or in that moment, didn’t even care.

He nosed at Damian’s neck, catching the discoloration of a bruise he’d sucked there, the night prior. Smiling to himself, Dick kissed the tender spot gently- felt the way Damian shifted a little, before kissing it again. He moved lower, found another, let his lips ghost over it, his hand stroking the gentle curve at Damian’s waist.

“I did a number on you, didn’t I?” Dick asked beneath a breathy chuckle, as Damian paused his reading, quirking up one eyebrow. He didn’t speak, though, even as Dick leaned down, kissed one bruise poking out along his collar bone, partially covered by the collar of his v-neck. Damian exhaled, the faintest of sighs, and Dick lifted his hand from his waist, plucking Damian’s book from his hands and dropping it off the side of the couch.

“Grayson,” Damian said, almost flatly, as Dick shifted, partially laying on Damian now. “You’ve lost my place.”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, one hand slipping up under Damian’s shirt, fingers teasing up the muscles along his side, his ribs. Damian tipped his head back, exposed his neck as Dick found another bruise, up by his ear, on the opposite side of his neck, and leaned over him, kissing it softly, sweetly. He pushed Damian’s shirt up as he did so, until it rested just under his nipples, so that when Dick leaned back, peered down, he could see the expanse of his ribs, his stomach.

There were a number of bruises on his ribs, a line of them scattered down his navel, leading to the hem of his jeans. Dick’s cheeks flushed then, realizing he’d left _all of them_.

“Damn,” he whispered, “Dami, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“If you continue that apology, I will kick you off this couch.” Damian hadn’t lifted his head, and merely reached a hand up, blindly finding Dick’s arm and stroking it. “I would have you stopped, had I wanted to.”

Dick nodded, lowering himself down, kissing one bruise, the next. Littering Damian’s ribs with soft brushes of his lips, like petals ghosting over skin. Damian couldn’t hold in another sigh, his eyes falling shut, one hand falling off the couch as his muscles went lax.

Dick reached down, tracing his fingers along the line of bruises on Damian’s navel, his fingers rough but the touch soft enough that it didn’t matter. His mouth followed, kissing the line to the waistband of Damian’s jeans, his chin dragging over the rough material as he dared to hook two fingers in it, tugging it down just slightly to catch the last visible bruise.

His other hand had reached up, cradling Damian’s ribs, thumb stroking little circles into him. Damian arched slightly, another little sound, his toes curling as Dick kissed back up the trail of bruises at his navel.

“How do you feel?” Dick whispered, kissing the hollow beneath Damian’s ribs.

“Like water.” Dick chuckled into his skin, could feel how soft his muscles had gone, was sure Damian was closer to a ragdoll in that moment then a human, and that only had him peppering more kisses up his copper skin. Over scars now, old and new, his fingers tracing each one he found. Marks he hadn’t left, but that he would learn, reclaim.

No one would ever lay a claim to this boy, so long as Dick still breathed.

Finally, he reached the fabric of Damian’s shirt, and pushed himself up, kissed one of the darker bruises on his neck again. Then, hoisting himself up to lean over the teen, he found his mouth, kissing it gently. The barest glide of lips, and Damian responded with the same gentleness, something hard to believe could come from the kid who was wound tighter then the Joker most nights, whose words could slice through steel.

When Dick pulled back, he got to watch Damian’s eyes flutter open, thick dark lashes like Talia, startling blue like Bruce, but the faintest smile all his own.

Damian lifted the arm he had let fall from the couch, lazily hooked it over Dick’s shoulders, fingers flexing in the soft fabric of his tshirt. Dick glanced at those fingers, then back at Damian, with his pretty eyes, content and calm as Dick rarely ever saw them, except those blissfully mornings where Dick could bring himself to before Damian was fully awake.

“I love you, little D,” Dick whispered, leaning down again to kiss the corner of his mouth. It quirked up, and Damian’s hand tightened on Dick’s shoulder. He turned his head, slightly, able to catch Dick’s mouth for another slow, lazy kiss, where his words were lost between their lips.

It didn’t matter. Dick knew them.

_I love you too._


	29. I Want to Move In (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "omg i see you reblogged that domestic starters post and i'm so sorry i'm spamming you BUT I HAVE TO SEND AT LEAST ONE FROM THERE WOW okayokay sooo "I want to move in with you." DickDami"
> 
> Can you tell we talk about DickDami a lot?

“Did I stutter, Grayson?” Damian rested his hands on his hips, studying the man who was half dressed, still toweling off his hair from his shower. Damian was standing in the small living room area of Dick’s apartment, had let himself in while Dick had been in the shower- had nearly let himself into the shower too, and given Dick a heart attack.

Dick simply stared. Because no, Damian hadn’t stuttered, but he was still sure he had misheard him. He had to. “You…want to move in?”

“Congratulations Grayson, your ears are in fact in working order.” Dick frowned, considering throwing his towel on the teen.

“Watch the attitude,” he tossed out, and Damian’s scowl softened, his eyes darting away. When they had started this whole fiasco- Dick couldn’t call it dating, could he? Could anyone actually date Damian?- he would have just gotten more sarcasm from the teen. It seemed now that if Dick openly recognized Damian had reached a point where he _might_ make Dick angry, the kid backed off. For a moment. “Why would you want to do something like that?”

“It seems the next logical course of action.” Dick sighed, turning away from Damian and walking towards the kitchenette, dropping his towel on the table. His lover- was that the accurate word? Sure, Dick liked _boyfriend_ and said it often enough, but it never seemed to suit Damian- followed a moment later, arms folded now. “I take it you disagree?”

“Just don’t see why you’d wanna move outta Wayne Manor,” Dick pointed out, opening his fridge and glancing through it. Shit, that’s what he had meant to do, shopping. And he’d forgotten. _Again_. “To a dump like this.”

“Your apartment is…a train wreck,” Damian admitted, as Dick closed the fridge, turning around and leaning back against it. “It is not the scenery I’m after.”

Dick raised his eyebrows once, before smiling. “Trying to say you miss me when I’m gone, little D?”

Damian snorted, rolling his eyes. “Hardly.”

“Uh-huh. That why you broke into my apartment? It’s only been three days-”

“I did not _break in_. You gave me a key, Grayson.” Dick frowned. Alright, so he _had_ given Damian a key. And maybe he liked the idea of the kid just stopping in, whenever he wanted. Like a surprise.

“That’s not the point. Point is, you just miss me. Trust me, you wouldn’t wanna live here. Hell, I miss the Manor from time to time.” Or, most of the time, if he was honest.

Damian sighed. “Are you saying you would rather return to the Manor, then have me move here?” Dick blinked, before shaking his head.

“Dami, I wasn’t suggesting that-”

“I would not be opposed to it,” Damian admitted, “Just…I would like to keep this apartment, as well.”

Dick quirked up an eyebrow. Damian was losing him. “Uh, why?” The teen shifted, glancing away from Dick.

“Perhaps I…enjoy the idea of there being a place for just us two.” Dick felt his chest tightening, slightly, could see a hint of color on Damian’s cheeks. He sighed, pushing himself off the fridge.

“C’mere.” Damian glanced back at him, hesitating a moment before taking the few steps, pressing against Dick as the older man’s arms wrapped around him. Damian nuzzled into his neck, as Dick squeezed him tightly. “Maybe I like the idea, too.”

“Really?” Dick smiled, rubbing one hand down along Damian’s spine.

“Yeah. Guess it’d be nice to have a place all our own.” He paused for a moment, before grinning, “And you know, not having to worry about what Bruce might end up with on his security footage.”

He expected Damian to scoff at him, but all he got was a rather relieved, “Exactly.” Damian straightened up, and Dick leaned back a bit.

“Oh god. What uh…what did he find _now_?” Dick was sure there was a special sort of hell reserved for him that he had to ask for specifics- that there were so many incidents that Bruce could have found, could disapprove of.

Well, he was sure he had a special sort of hell waiting for him for the fact that he was dating someone well over ten years younger then him- that he had watched grow up. 

“Father gave me a particularly… pained lecture on the proper use of my latest bike.” Dick took a minute to think back to what he could have done on that-

Oh, yeah. Damian trying to fine-tune it, smelling like sweat and grease and for some reason it have sparked something in Dick. Damian pressed against the seat, with Dick between his legs, on his knees-

Yeah, that _definitely_ warranted a lecture.

“Okay, I guess having a place without Bruce’s eyes and ears definitely is a plus.” Dick shook his head. “Look little D, this is a…a _big step_. Let’s just think it over for a bit, okay?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You are just wasting time now, Grayson.”

“No, I’m trying to be an adult about this. Have a little faith in me? Anyway,” Dick pulled away, turning to grab his cell phone off the counter, “I _might_ have forgotten to get some groceries. So you want a pizza? I’m starving.”

“Typical,” Damian exhaled, shaking his head.

“You’re the one that wants to put up with this more often.”

“You still seem to think I am so attached that I need to be with you twenty four seven.”

Dick shrugged a shoulder. “Babe, you more or less admitted you miss me. So, pizza, yes or _yes_?” Damian rolled his eyes again, then,

“If you pile it with meat again I will choke you on it.”

Dick hesitated, before grinning, “We’ll get two.” He started dialing, and Damian turned, walking out of the room, but calling over his shoulder,

“Do not think you will distract me, Grayson. I will have you convinced by the end of the night.”

Dick wasn’t sure if it was a threat or a challenge, but he grinned despite it. Yeah, it might be nice to have the brat around him even more. To have a little space that was their’s.

After all, that’s what boyfriends did, _wasn’t it_? They eventually moved in together.


	30. Single Dad AU Pt3 (BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Your fanfics give me life! If you ever get the time to, could please do more of SingleDad? It's so great. Something like after a couple of days Bruce texts Dick about coming over for dinner or something along those lines or if you have your own prompt/idea that would be great too. ^_^ ~thank you!"

Dick was stretched out on Jason’s couch, idly playing with his phone. It was getting dark already, and he had been waiting to plan dinner with Jason- but it seemed that he was going to be waiting forever, as it was. When Jason had arrived home, his little _boyfriend_ had appeared within ten minutes, and since then, the two had been locked in Jason’s room.

That was an hour ago. _An hour_. 

Dick was still having trouble believing the kid was a day over seventeen. No matter how many times Jason tried to convince him. Hell, the other night, he had had Tim pull out his ID to show Dick.

Still. He looked way too young, too pretty. And yeah, Jason was _hot_ , he knew that- but what had he done to get a pretty boy like Tim?

Not that any of that mattered, in that moment. Dick was starving, but he didn’t want to order without Jason. Felt like it was rude. After all, Jason was letting him crash there without asking for anything in return.

Which was good, considering Dick knew if he didn’t get his ass in gear and get a job soon, he wouldn’t _have_ anything.

He was about to shout at the two, when his phone vibrated. He glanced at it, at the name that popped up, and felt his heart suddenly hammering up his throat.

 _Bruce_.

Dick had never texted him, after he’d put his number in Dick’s phone, two days prior. Jason had tried to get him to, but Dick had resisted. Wasn’t sure what to say- again, Jason had suggested something as _poetic_ as _you’re a hot dad wanna bang?_ \- but Dick had resisted his suggestion.

Oh, it had been so hard.

Dick opened the message, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he read.

_What are the odds you want to get dinner tonight?_

He felt a little color in his cheeks, wasn’t sure what to say. Because, if he was honest with himself, _hell yes_ he wanted to get dinner with Bruce. Dick still wasn’t over how stupidly attractive he was, or the fact that he seemed so genuinely nice towards him. The whole _hot dad_ thing, that was just a bonus.

But he was hesitant. Wasn’t sure if he was really reading this the way he should be- didn’t want to set himself up as interested in someone who didn’t look at him the same way. Maybe Bruce just liked his company. Maybe he just liked the fact that his kid really liked Dick.

But he was starving, and he could go for some company. He hadn’t really left the apartment in two days. He had considered calling Barbara to get lunch once, but decided against it. It was good to see her- but it was still raw, and he didn’t want to push anything.

Dick took a deep breath. _Sure. Where can I meet you?_

He felt his fingers tremble like he was a teenager again. Like this was his first crush.

Oh god, was he calling Bruce that now? Was he admitting it?

_I can pick you up. Same place I dropped you off?_

Another inhale. _Yeah._

_Great. I’m leaving my office in a minute. I’ll be there in a half hour._

Dick swallowed. Oh, hell. It was happening. _It was actually happening_.

*

If Dick were to actually time it, it took Bruce exactly twenty-seven minutes. He’d been outside for a few already, didn’t want the man to have to wait. When his car pulled up he let himself in, having a moment before he got the door open of, once again, _what if he was absolutely under dressed_?

He was relieved to see that Bruce had ditched his tie and suit jacket, and had the sleeves of his light blue button down rolled up, the first few buttons open. And, he couldn’t help but think, before he even got out a hello, that the color complimented Bruce’s eyes.

“Hey,” Dick managed, closing the door, fighting with the seat belt as Bruce pulled off.

“Hello. I hope you’re hungry.” Dick grinned.

“You have no idea. I was waiting to order food with my bestie but…well, his boyfriend showed up and they have been locked away for _over an hour_.” Dick let his head fall back, sighing, then blushed. “Uh, sorry. You don’t need to hear me chatter on.”

“Please,” Bruce said, glancing at him, before back at the road, a small smile on his lips. “Chatter away.”

Dick blushed, but continued, about Jason, about meeting Tim, not believing the boy’s age. He filled their ride until they were back half way across the city, and Bruce was parking the car.

“Seriously, if you saw him, you’d think he was in high school.” Bruce was chuckling over this, when Dick realized they had stopped moving. He clamped his lips together, working on his own seat belt, until he could climb out of the car, having to adjust his v-neck tshirt, which had begun to tangle around him.

Dick wasn’t sure he’d ever had a problem with seat belts until now.

This was a different restaurant, and thankfully, Dick didn’t need to ask for help while ordering- although, if he was honest, he wasn’t entirely positive he knew what he had ordered. But it tasted alright, and that was really all that mattered.

“Damian keeps asking about you,” Bruce said, offering up a smile. Dick blushed.

“He’s cute. Tell him I say hi.” Bruce chuckled. “Can I, uh, ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Where is his mom?” Dick regretted it the moment he asked. All he knew was what Bruce had told him before. She was out of country. They weren’t together- but still, Dick felt like he had to know. Had to know before he let himself fall in too deep.

Which was a joke, he already had.

“That was rude,” he said, reaching up to rake a hand back through his hair, “I’m sorry Bruce, forget I-”

“No.” Bruce set his fork down. “No it’s alright. Talia lives out of country. We were an on and off couple, for a few years. Damian…wasn’t planned, if I’m being honest.” He traced one finger along the length of his fork, looking down. “Admitting that makes me sound like a horrible father.”

“It doesn’t,” Dick offered, fighting down the urge to reach across the table, to grip Bruce’s hand. Yeah, he was sure that was crossing some sort of line.

“Honestly, I didn’t know about Damian until after he was born. I…I wish Talia had told me. We weren’t ever going to patch things up, but I would have liked to have been around. He was about three months old the first time I met him. He’s lived with her, until recently. He’s only lived with me about six months.”

Dick nodded. It made a little more sense now, Bruce’s uncertainty with how to handle Damian. He’d had enough time with him to learn how to handle a child, but the particulars to _this_ one, they were still alluding him.

Bruce glanced away from Dick, at his glass, then back. “I’m sorry, that might have been more then you were asking for.”

“No…no it’s fine.” Dick offered up a smile. “For what it’s worth, you seem like a great dad to me.”

This time, Bruce did smile. “It’s worth a lot.” Dick felt his cheeks heating up again, and tried to fight it down- sure even in the low lights that Bruce would notice. “What about you? If I dare ask, what kept you from Gotham so long?”

Dick felt his smile fall away, and he glanced down at the table, at his plate, anything really. “It’s complicated,” he admitted, and after a moment, glanced back up. “I was engaged to this girl. She’s sweet, really. It just…well, it ended pretty nasty. I just needed to get away.”

Bruce nodded, and Dick was rather glad he didn’t ask for more. He didn’t feel he was ready to talk about it with anyone, yet- Jason excluded, because he had seen all of it happen. “Well,” Bruce offered up, giving Dick another kind smile, “I hope it’s good to be back.”

Dick was beginning to think it just might be.

*

Bruce drove him back to Jason’s apartment, Dick joking as he parked the car about whether or not Jason and Tim would have emerged from his room yet. He had texted Jason, but hadn’t gotten a response. Just wanted to know if he could come, or if he should walk around the block a few times.

He did want Jason to have some privacy, still.

“I’ll wait with you,” Bruce offered, shutting off the engine and opening his door. The two of them climbed out, and Bruce walked around, leaning against the car, next to Dick. Dick glanced up, past the apartment building, up at the sky.

“Nothing like a Gotham skyline,” he admitted, “I did miss it.” Bruce smiled next to him, looking up as well.

“You know,” he started, “I’m taking Damian out on the water this weekend. Try to get him out of the house. Why don’t you come with us?” Dick glanced over at him, wide eyed, and Bruce smiled. “You’ll love the skyline even more from out past the harbor.”

Dick stammered for a moment, unsure what to say, and Bruce turned, staring down at him fully, with those pretty blue eyes that had Dick’s heart doing flips, as if he was a kid again. As if there was a wild bird living in his chest.

“I don’t-I mean- are you sure?” Bruce’s smile softened, his mouth turning into a serious line- but not unkind.

“Positive.” He reached up, idly pushing some of Dick’s hair back from his cheek, and Dick lost his breath at the feel of his thumb on his cheekbone. Then Bruce’s palm on his cheek, his last two fingers curling up under his jaw.

Then, Bruce’s mouth, on his. Dick stiffened, forgot how to move, how to kiss, until he felt Bruce’s lips move slowly. Then his eyes were closing and he was falling into it, reaching one hand out to grip at the collar of Bruce’s shirt, Bruce’s other hand on his waist, clutching him tightly.

Dick tilted his head, let Bruce kiss him deeper- let his body tremble once when he felt his tongue, tracing the swell of his lower lip. Dick opened his mouth, felt faint as Bruce’s tongue slid over his own, pulled himself in closer-

Until he was turned, his back shoved against the car. Dick gasped, arching against it, baring his neck, and Bruce broke the kiss, leaning down to mouth against his pulse. Dick stared up at the sky, dizzy, arms wrapping around Bruce’s neck, to clutch at his shirt, between his shoulder blades- a moan escaping his lips, unable to hold it in.

How long had it been since someone had kissed him like this? Or showed a real interest? Too damn long, if Dick was honest.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy to forget his fears, his caution. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to stroke at the top of Bruce’s spine, turn his head to bare his neck further for him.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t ask him to stop.

Bruce had found his mouth again, was kissing him breathless when Dick felt it, _heard it_ , his phone buzzing in his pocket. Bruce pulled off his mouth at the sound, and Dick felt the color rising in his cheeks-

As it hit him, that he was pinned against Bruce’s car. That Bruce had been kissing him, that he had _kissed him back_.

And, possibly the worst, just how badly he wanted to be kissing him again.

Bruce leaned his forehead against Dick’s. “Probably your friend?”

“Y-yeah.” Dick swallowed, and Bruce lifted his head, leaned in and kissed Dick’s temple.

“Saturday at nine, at the harbor, alright?” Dick floundered for a moment, and Bruce kissed his hair now- and god, he had butterflies. _He had butterflies_.

“Alright.” Bruce smiled then, pulling away, letting Dick move off the car. He took a few steps away, before turning, cheeks still flushed. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Anytime.”

Dick knew Bruce watched him, until he was in the building. He took off at a run then, bounding up the stairs and to the apartment, his mind reeling.

He’d kissed him. _Bruce had kissed him_.

Bruce had invited him sailing. _Sailing_.

He turned, leaning his back against the apartment door, not ready to open it yet. Not ready to face Jason and his questions- because he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to him. That he’d grin because he simply had the worst poker face there was. 

No, he couldn’t face Jason until he had wrapped his own mind around all of it. He slid down the door, sitting on the floor, as his phone buzzed again. Dick pulled it out, unlocking it, and found, aside of Jason’s message, a new one from Bruce. Sucking on his lip, he opened it.

 _I had a really good time tonight_.

Dick sighed. Yeah, if he was honest- he did too.


	31. Can't (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) posted: "So I’ve spent around an hour in bed instead of getting ready for work, imagining Damian being a complete mess after few rough rounds, and when Dick is pulling him closer he actually whimpers that “Ngh.. Can’t..” which makes Dick chuckle fondly, pull him against his chest and stroke his lower back. “Shh don’t worry” he’d smooch his neck, nuzzling “not today” he laughs again, deep and satisfied but tired too. “let’s sleep” he hums after a few long minutes, pulling the blankets over them."
> 
> It wasn't really a prompt, I just saw the post and threw a ficlet on it. Because I have no control.

Dick’s fingers on his waist are like lightning, sending little hot shocks to his nerves. Damian squirms, even as he is pulled in, his sore mouth assaulted with another kiss. His lips are swollen, from Dick’s teeth and merciless kisses, from being stretched around Dick’s cock more then once since he had arrived at the older man’s apartment.

It was early morning now, still dark, but well past three. Damian had lost count of the orgasms Dick have given him, had lost count of the hours. All he knew was that his throat was sore from it all, that his body was so hyper-sensitive that Dick’s fingertips alone hurt, felt so good that trespassed the threshold between pain and pleasure.

“Ngh,” Damian whimpered against Dick’s mouth, “Can’t…” as he was released to breathe.

He sounded like a broken child.

And at this point, exhausted and so utterly fucked, he _didn’t care_.

Dick studied Damian’s face for a moment, the deep flush on his cheeks that still hadn’t left, stains on his skin from the streaks of tears- he knew Damian would deny those in the morning, but that was alright. He had memory as proof. Smiling fondly, he chuckled, reaching up to stroke Damian’s sweat-damp hair back from his forehead.

“Okay,” he whispered, moving his hand from Damian’s waist to pull him in against him, rolling onto his back. Damian followed, pressed his face into the crook of Dick’s neck, nuzzling affectionately. That alone could have told Dick how exhausted he was. “I think we’re done for the night.”

Damian made a little sound in agreement, as Dick reached down, rubbing at the base of his spine, gentle so as not to aggravate the bruise he had sucked next to one of the dimple at the base of Damian’s back. Careful to keep his touches affectionate.

When Damian’s forehead pressed against Dick’s collar bone, Dick flattened his hand at the base of his back, holding him as he shifted, managed to grab the blanket and pull it up over them. Damian lifted his head, just in time to have Dick lean in, kiss his temple, smile at him in that charming way that always left Damian’s heart an inch up his throat.

“Let’s get some sleep,” he offered, with a satisfied chuckle. Damian didn’t say a word, just let his head drop back to Dick’s chest, curling up around him and closing his tired eyes. Dick resumed rubbing the base of his spine, until, in mere minutes, Damian’s breathing had eased to a shallow, steady rhythm.


	32. Arranged Marriage pt5 (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "OMG, I need more of the Tim/Dami married AU. I'm dying for them to finally get it on! Tim and Dami go out to an event, dancing drinking and flirting ensues, Dami apologizes to his dad for heading out early but Bruce totally gets young love, and then Tim and Dami get home and get naughty.... You pick just how far it goes. ;)"
> 
> An Anon asked: "For your Summer DCU Prompt Fills, could you do a continuation with Arranged Marriage AU (TimDami), maybe with a featuring of Ra’s Al Ghul where he is blatantly flirting with Tim, making Damian jealous and annoyed of his grandfather? And Tim is amused with his husband’s antics heh"
> 
> An Anon asked: "Arranged marriage AU, must have more! Tim and Damian acting all cute at a party, leave early, and FINALLY have naked fun times."
> 
> I decided to combine them all in one (rather long oops) prompt fill!

Damian smiled at the woman his father was introducing, shaking her hand. Her name was gone as soon as it had left his father’s lips, but Damian didn’t think it mattered. He’d already met so many people this evening that his head was spinning.

Currently though, his distraction wasn’t the buzz of names and endless small talk, but the figure he could see, just past this woman’s shoulder.

Tim stood off with his parents, smiling as an older gentleman talked to the group. He laughed, and while Damian couldn’t exactly hear it, the way it lit Tim’s face up was enough. He wanted to be over there- wasn’t even entirely sure how they had separated, just that his father had pulled him one way, and Tim’s parents had been guiding him another.

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Damian glanced over, saw his father smiling. “If you will excuse my son, I do believe it’s time we let him get back to his husband.” Damian gave his father the faintest of smiles in gratitude, before he excused himself, a gentle it was a pleasure to meet you, and then he was crossing the room, eyes set on Tim.

He reached his side just as he was laughing again, reaching down to tangle his fingers with Tim, squeezing his hand. Tim stopped, glanced at him, then offered up a smile, the kind that had Damian’s heart melting.

“Oh there you are darling!” Janet said with a smile, she turned to the man who had been talking, “This is my son-in-law, Damian Wayne.”

“Charmed,” Damian offered, with a nod, unwilling to remove his hand from Tim’s. Tim didn’t seem to mind- in fact, he squeezed Damian’s hand once, before lifting his champagne glass that he held in the other, taking a sip.

Damian was given the brief glimpse of his wedding band, and the way it caught the lights of the room. His melted heart re-solidified, only to jump to his throat. 

Damian stayed with Tim and his parents for a bit, before Tim’s champagne glass was empty and they were excusing themselves to get another. He half expected Tim to take his hand back, but he never did, even Tim replaced his glass, took a sip.

Damian dared to stroke his thumb over one of Tim’s fingers, and the other man smiled.

“No one would ever guess how much you hate these things,” Tim whispered, as they watched the room for a moment, neither ready to dive back in.

“I don’t hate them,” Damian offered, and felt Tim squeeze his hand.

“All you did for the past three days was complain about coming over breakfast. I think you hate them.” Damian flushed, slightly, and Tim giggled, taking another sip of his champagne.

Tim was right- Damian wasn’t overly fond of this aspect of his life. Parties, charity events, all those large gatherings that often left him with a migraine. And perhaps he had voiced his displeasure about it over the past few days- but he was more pleased that Tim had taken notice, then displeased to actually be there.

If he was honest, he and Tim had made a few steps, over the past week. At least they were conversing regularly, and while Tim’s good-bye kiss had not been replicated from earlier in the week, he had spent one other night in Damian’s bed, had ended up curled into his chest in the exact same way he had, the first night.

Those were definitely steps in a direction Damian liked.

Tim turned, tugging Damian in a little, holding up his glass. “You’re going to make me look bad if I drink all of the champagne in this place and you don’t even _touch_ it.” Damian rolled his eyes, but smiled, watched Tim take another sip, before he spun the glass, and Damian could see the fainest smudge from his lips.

Damian took it with his free hands, placed his mouth directly where Tim’s had been, holding his gaze as he took a sip. Tim smiled, a little flicker going over his light eyes- and, for a moment, Damian was sure he imagined it.

This was partially for show, after all. Wasn’t it? They weren’t actually flirting- _were they_?

Tim’s fingers danced over Damian’s, gripping his hold on the glass and tipping it, forcing Damian to take another sip. When the glass was pulled away, Tim leaned in, so close Damian could feel his breath on his lips. Tim’s eyes flicked to them, then back up, and Damian thought for sure he would kiss him-

“Ah, here’s where the lovebirds disappeared to.” Tim pulled back the moment the words broke the air, and both turned, watching as Bruce made his way towards them, with the source of the words at his side.

Talia.

“Mother,” Damian said, rather shocked. Tim pulled back entirely, taking the glass and the hand that Damian had been clutching with him. Talia smiled, leaving Bruce to make her way to her son, arms going around his shoulders in a loose embrace. Damian returned it with one arm- awkward, not used to physical affection from either of his parents, if he was honest. They had just never been that sort of family. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Your father invited me, and quite honestly I had it in mind to refuse. But I haven’t seen you since the wedding- or your little husband here.” She turned, flashing a smile to Tim, the kind that was all points of her perfect teeth, curves of her red lips. It was easy to see how anyone could find her intimidating.

“Hello Talia,” Tim offered, “You look wonderful.” She waved him off, her smile softening slightly.

“You’re training him well, Damian,” she teased. Damian was quiet, wanted to reach for Tim’s hand and take it again, but his husband had shifted his champagne glass to that hand, his other slipping into his pocket.

Behind Talia, Bruce had finally moved up, and next to him, the last person Damian expected to see that evening.

His grandfather.

“Hmm, I guess introductions are in order,” Talia said, glancing back at her father and Bruce, then towards Tim. “Tim, this is my father, Ra’s Al Ghul.”

“Charmed,” Tim said, pulling his hand free and accepting the hand offered to him. Ra’s smiled- the kind like Talia, sharp, white teeth. The kind Tim knew Damian could have, as well.

“Talia has spoken of you,” Ra’s said, and Damian didn’t care for the way his grandfather’s eyes looked at Tim. Something about them was almost- predatory. “She failed to mention that at least, at the end of this fiasco, my grandson’s partner was a pleasure for the eyes.”

Damian tensed- saw his father glanced away, obviously trying to keep from laughing. He didn’t find it funny. His mother, though, openly laughed, as Tim raised his delicate eyebrows, before flashing a smile.

“Now father, I do believe I mentioned that Tim was indeed very pretty,” she teased.

Ra’s gave the barest of nods. He was looking at Tim. _Looking_ at him. And Damian _didn’t_ like it.

He was going to reach for his husband, but his mother was faster, managing to take Tim’s free arm in her own. “Introduce me to your parents again, child. I should be able to say I’ve spoken to my son-in-law’s parents more then just on the wedding day.” Tim smiled, a polite _of course_ , and Talia waved for Ra’s to join them. The three were moving, leaving Damian alone with his father to watch.

“Did you have to invite grandfather?”

“If it makes you feel better,” Bruce admitted, “I only invited your mother, to be polite. Your grandfather was a surprise, even to me. And I had no idea they were coming until they showed up at the Manor earlier today.”

“I will make a point to avoid visiting until they have returned home.” Bruce laughed at that, reaching out to pat Damian on his shoulder.

“You’ll break your mother’s heart.” Damian rolled his eyes, and Bruce just smiled at him. “Let’s get a drink, then we can go rescue that husband of yours.”

Damian decided he agreed- he definitely needed a drink before diving back into this.

*

He _heard_ Janet Drake laughing before he even saw her, but at least it pointed him in the right direction. Damian walked a step ahead of Bruce, finding Tim and- rather thankfully- ending up on the side where he wasn’t holding a glass. He was rather glad his mother hadn’t held his arm the entire time he was gone.

Damian slipped in, gently wrapping his arms around it, leaning in and kissing Tim’s cheek before even saying anything. Janet’s laughter was tapering off.

“Oh! Goodness, Damian, you snuck up on us!” Damian smiled, as his father walked up, greeting Tim’s parents as well. Damian took this moment to tug gently on Tim’s arm, pulling him from the group, which started up a new conversation, and leading him away silently.

“I think I like your mother,” Tim said, as he handed off his empty glass to a waiter. Damian rolled his eyes.

“Her, I can tolerate. My _grandfather_ , on the other hand…” Tim giggled, stopping to cover his mouth with one hand, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What?”

“It’s…it’s cute, that you’re actually a little threatened.” Damian stared at Tim for a moment, as the slightly shorter man composed himself, a playful smile flickering across his too-pink lips. “Relax. I’ve been hit on by all types of men before. Besides, for a man his age, your grandfather isn’t half bad.”

Damian groaned, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I did not just hear that.”

“Oh _relax_. I’m not interested.” Tim closed the gap between them, leaning in. “I just find it amusing you seemed…jealous.” Damian tried to look away, but when he glanced back Tim’s pretty eyes were still staring into him.

“Wouldn’t it be expected of me to be jealous?” He tried to play it off, was afraid if perhaps Tim caught on too much as to _just how jealous he had been_ , it would be intimidating. And with how far they had come, Damian didn’t want to see them take a step backwards.

“I suppose.” Tim reached up, brushing his fingers along Damian’s short hair. “But I don’t think it’s all for show, _darling_. I think-” he paused, took a moment to lick his lips, teeth dragging along the lower one, “I think you were actually jealous.” Damian said nothing, felt Tim’s hand skimming through his hair again, then down, to his neck, pressing along the back of his, along the collar of his jacket and shirt. “And like I said, I _wasn’t interested_ \- in him, at least.”

Damian felt his heart hammering against his ribs, painfully so. Tim was looking at him with those pretty eyes, in a way that had his blood hammering through his veins. Looking at Damian like he was interested.

“You’re intoxicated,” Damian finally reasoned, and Tim laughed, breathy, for a moment, rolling his eyes.

“Well, of course. You’re not the only one who isn’t always a fan of these things. How else am I going to laugh at all of my mother’s horrible jokes?” Tim smiled, and it was pretty, too pretty- had Damian wanting to kiss him, taste the champagne after-flavor on his tongue. “But trust me, I’m not drunk enough to not know what I’m saying.”

Damian opened his mouth to speak, but had no words. Tim only smiled more, fingers teasing the skin at the back of his neck.

“You haven’t kissed me yet.”

“I- yes. I did.” Damian could barely fathom where the statement had come from- or that Tim had actually said it.

“That wasn’t a kiss,” Tim teased, his other hand reaching between them, rubbing along the lapel of Damian’s jacket. “And, you know, you wouldn’t want anyone to talk, that the newly weds aren’t being affectionate.”

Damian inhaled, barely registered that he had done so. He had to be dreaming. There was no way Tim was teasing him, not like this.

Right?

Or was there? He had kissed him, that one time- he had asked to sleep in Damian’s bed again. Maybe…maybe Damian was simply too afraid to read Tim’s signs, too enthralled to realize that the other man might be weakening, as well.

Damian reached up, sank one hand into Tim’s soft hair, tilting his husband’s head slightly, as his other hand went to his waist, pulled him in so he could press their lips together. Tim gave a little sigh, eyes falling shut, tugging Damian a bit closer, following each of Damian’s movements.

His lips tasted like champagne, and Damian couldn’t help himself, his tongue running along the seam of Tim’s mouth, the other man giving him access. Tim tongue tasted like it too, and Damian heard him give a soft, little moan into his mouth as he stroked his tongue along Tim’s.

Well, if anyone was going to talk, it definitely wasn’t going to be about how they weren’t affectionate.

Tim’s hand tightened at the back of Damian’s neck, holding him closer for just another second, before he was pulling away. Damian felt his rabid, small breaths against his now wet mouth, could only stare at Tim in disbelief.

And Tim well- he _smiled_.

“Better,” he whispered, before pulling himself away completely. “Now, I’m going to get us both a glass of champagne.”

“Why?” Damian prayed it wasn’t for Tim to deal with that kiss. _Please_ , if there was any sort of fate or luck on his side, at least let Tim have truly enjoyed that.

“Because, as the night goes on, my mother’s jokes will only get worse.” He grinned, then, leaning in one more time, kissed Damian’s cheek. “And in the hopes that a little liquid courage will do you a world of good.”

Damian let him walk away, trying to keep himself composed- to hide his shock, and the over whelming excitement he felt growing in his gut.

*

It must have been something in his eyes, that was the only thing Damian could reason, as he focused on the road, Tim happily in the passenger seat of his car, watching the city out his window. Something in his eyes that had preempted Bruce to ask Damian if he and Tim would like to leave early. Had Damian’s displeasure over the long evening been evident?

Or- had Bruce caught the way he’d been looking at Tim? The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off him- the way Tim would catch him too, and Damian’s cheeks would tinge the lightest of pinks, and his husband would only smile. Occasionally, he’d tangle their fingers together, squeeze gently.

Damian wasn’t sure what had been happening, and maybe it was simply Tim putting on a good show, with some help from the champagne, but he was nervous, if he was honest. Driving back to the penthouse. Wasn’t sure who Tim would be, when they walked in the door.

Wasn’t sure who he wanted Tim to be, either.

He parked the car and got out, was half way around the front of the car when Tim climbed out. Damian stopped, and Tim eyed him, offering a smile. “Were you going to get my door?” Damian was quiet, and Tim’s smile broadened as he walked over to him, turning him and taking his arm. “You know, no one’s watching now. You don’t have to put on a show.”

Damian glanced down at the way Tim gripped his arm. “You don’t, either.”

Tim squeezed. “Maybe I’m not.”

Damian was fairly sure his heart had flown from his chest, reached their penthouse well before they were inside. Once inside though, Damian turned to lock the door, ready to ask Tim if he was up for maybe a movie, a talk, really _anything_ \- didn’t want the man to go to bed yet-

But the words never even formed in his mouth. Tim had his hands on his shoulders, was shoving him back up against the door, attacking his mouth in a kiss that was sloppy, desperate, and had Damian losing his breath. He reached for the other man, grabbed his hips, pulled him closer, the thoughts and self doubt gone, as Tim licked his way into his mouth.

Sure, maybe somewhere in his mind, something was screaming at him that this was crazy, that there was no way Tim was going to go from almost no interest to pressing against him like this- but he couldn’t hear it over the wet sounds of their lips, over the little noises Tim made when Damian got his tongue under his. The slightly shorter man shifted, pressing against one of Damian’s thighs, so it slipped between his legs.

And then rolled his hips, openly moaning into Damian’s mouth. He went tense, Tim’s hands gripping his shoulders tighter, before moving to the lapels of his jacket, tugging so Damian had to kiss him deeper, tongue slipping into his mouth.

His mind was spinning. Damian couldn’t connect how they had gotten from the car to here, how he had ended up with Tim grinding against his thigh, whining into his mouth. How he was even still standing-

Probably because he was leaning so heavily back against the door. Probably because Tim’s body was helping to keep him there.

“Tim,” he managed, between kisses, as his husband finally pulled back. His lips were pinker, wet, and Damian shuddered, just looking at them. Tim gave a smile, before it broke as he let another small moan out, his hips rolling against Damian’s thigh. “Tim what-”

“I know you know what I’m doing,” he breathed, “Are you going to tell me to stop?”

Maybe there was a hint of trepidation there. Maybe a hint of fear.

Damian missed it entirely.

“You’re drunk,” he finally offered, because it had to be true. How much champagne had Tim had? Damian hadn’t counted the glasses.

Tim laughed, rolling his pretty eyes. “Trust me, if I was drunk, I’d be on the floor right now.” Damian’s cheeks flushed, and Tim smirked. “Maybe you like that idea?”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t drunk, but he was definitely tipsy. Damian couldn’t think of any other reason behind the sudden switch.

Tim pulled back then, taking a step away from Damian. The moment he was gone, Damian missed his heat, the smell of champagne and his cologne, the hardness that had been pressed into his thigh- _oh god Tim was hard_.

Tim took a second to glance over Damian, before turning, walking away. Damian stared for a second, before, “Where are you going?”

“Your bedroom.”

Oh _god_ Damian must be dreaming.

He pushed himself off the door, following behind him. Tim didn’t turn the light on, just slipped out of his jacket, tossing it over a chair and turning, reaching up to loosen his tie.

“Are you just going to watch, _Mr. Wayne_?” Damian shivered, hadn’t expected to have that sort of reaction, and then he was moving, grabbing Tim and crashing against him, kissing him. He couldn’t keep track of Tim’s hands, in his hair one moment, pushing his jacket off the next, working on his own tie- then Damian’s. His own clutched at Tim’s hips, holding him until he felt Tim tossing his tie to the ground, fingers working open his shirt, gliding along each inch of copper skin that was revealed.

Tim pushed him then, until Damian fell to the bed, sitting on the edge. He climbed over him, straddling his thighs, finishing the last two buttons on Damian’s shirt and then reaching for the button on his pants.

Damian wasn’t sure what he should do- all he could think to do was mimic Tim. Part of him, a good chunk, was so sure Tim was going to pull back at any second, decide this was a terrible idea.

He worked Tim’s shirt open as his husband managed to get his pants undone, then reach inside, palming him. Damian gasped, fingers fumbling at Tim’s pants as the other man _hummed_.

“Are you going to impress me, _darling_?” he whispered, a playful smirk on his now kiss-swollen lips. Damian swallowed thickly, as Tim reached his free hand down, popping open the button to his pants and working them open. With one hand, he managed to slip past the waistband of Damian’s underwear, wrapping around the base of his cock, while the other pushed his own pants down slightly, before grasping his under underwear, managing to tug them down to hook at the base of his own cock, which sprang free.

Damian grasped at Tim’s thighs, steadying him as he pulled Damian out, giving him one good, slow stroke. He exhaled, tried not to let his eyes roll back, tried to not make it seem like the world might end if Tim stroked him just one more time.

Maybe he was a little too pent up.

But, by the way Tim was staring at him with hungry eyes, grabbing one of his wrists to pull it from his thigh. Well, maybe he was too.

He guided Damian’s hand to his cock, and Damian grasped him, stroking carefully, gently, and Tim laughed, tossing his head back, exposing his pretty neck.

“I won’t break,” he whispered, and as if to prove a point, twisted his hand around the head of Damian’s cock. He groaned, stroking Tim faster, who sucked his lip into his mouth, rocking his hips with each stroke.

Damian couldn’t breath. Tim’s fingers seemed to know the pressure he needed, know exactly where to twist, knew him in ways he had no actual reason to.

Tim cursed, slumped down, suddenly batting Damian’s hand away. He pulled back, worried he’d done something- until Tim had inched as close as possible, was wrapping the hand that had been around Damian around both of them. Damian groaned as Tim leaned in, pressed their foreheads together, stroking both of their cocks. It was different, it wasn’t the usual pressure Damian needed- but Tim’s cock rubbing along the underside of his, and Tim squirming in his lap, his other arm around his shoulders, clutching tightly- his breaths, against Damian’s lips-

That was _more then enough_.

Damian groaned, loudly, from his chest, pushing up, his orgasm there before he could even realize it, cum spilling over Tim’s knuckles. Tim whined, hips jerking as he came right after, adding to the sticky mess between them, stroking until he was shaking, until Damian was grasping at the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

The kiss was just as messy, wet with Tim’s lips too slick and Damian’s tongue too eager, both of them making small sounds in their throats as they came down from their orgasm. They slowed, as they did, until Tim was pulling back, pulling his hand away from Damian-

And standing up, on shaky legs. He didn’t say a word, just turned, walking out of the room, and Damian flopped down onto his back, his head spinning.

That hadn’t happened. Had it? He was dreaming, of course he was dreaming.

 _Was he_?

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, wasn’t sure he was even himself then. It was too strange, too sudden a shift of events-

“You can’t go to bed like that.” Damian raised his head, saw Tim in his doorway, changed now, _in those damned yoga pants_ and a shirt falling off his shoulders. He walked back in, grabbing a box of tissues off the nightstand and getting on the bed, leaning over and gently kissing the corner of Damian’s mouth. While Tim’s hand had taken most of the mess, Damian still felt slightly sticky- but the moment Tim was touching him, wiping up the mess, his hips jerked.

Yeah, pent up hadn’t even really begun to explain it, he was sure. For either of them.

Tim hushed him, sweetly, careful to not over stimulate him. His lips brushed Damian’s cheek bone, before he pulled away, getting up to throw the tissues away. Damian sat up, tugging his underwear back up before squirming out of his pants, leaving them on the floor.

Across the room, Tim watched, fighting down a giggle. Not that he had left his clothing in a much better state in his own room- and his jacket was still tossed over the chair.

Damian had worked his shirt off now, even tugged his socks off, was pulling the sheets back- aware that Tim was watching every move. Not leaving, but not speaking.

“Do you,” he started, pausing as he turned, looking back at his husband. “Do you want to sleep in here tonight?”

Carefully, Tim nodded, crossing the room and tugging the blanket back on his side- and Damian would muse over the fact that somehow, Tim had a side, naturally favoring the one Damian did not- and settling down onto the bed.

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning in, hooking his arm around Damian’s shoulders. “I would like that.”

This time when he kissed Damian, it was slower, sweeter, the kind that would lull Damian into dreams, if he wasn’t careful.

Damian wasn’t sure he knew how to be careful, at this point.


	33. Distraction (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Hiiii if you ever have time i would LOVE one where Tim is trying to study or do something like read and Jason keeps trying to distract him"

Tim should have done this in his room, he was sure. But the idea of being stretched out on one of the couches while he read for his class was far more appealing- and had been the best choice, for the first twenty minutes.

Until Jason had showed up.

Tim rolled his eyes, ignoring Jason, who was talking from where he sat, in a chair a few feet away. 

“Are you even listening?”

“I’m _reading_ Jason. I have to have this book finished for my class tomorrow.” And lord knew Tim wouldn’t get the chance that night, not with patrol. Balancing anything and the whole _vigilante thing_ was hard, but school? Let alone college? Tim was fairly sure he’d rather take a shot of Joker venom straight to the neck.

Jason huffed, and Tim flipped the page, wondering if he could even get it done before e had to suit up. How long did he have? Should he start skimming now?

“Tim you gotta look at this!” Tim jerked, Jason suddenly standing over him, and glared up at him.

“How the hell-”

“Dude just look at what Dick sent me.” Tim rolled his eyes, lowering his book to his chest. Jason was holding his phone out.

“I swear to god if this is a _dick pic_ Jason I am going to murder you,” Tim muttered, but Jason was laughing. Most likely over the joke about Dick’s name.

It was a serious of shots, taken at Gotham central park, of a slew of Corgis Dick had found, all wearing various hero costumes. Yes, there was a Nightwing. And Dick had sent twenty two pictures of it.

Twenty two.

“I get it,” Tim said, after a few, but Jason was shaking his head.

“Gotta look at all of them babybird.” Tim sighed, scrolling as quickly as he could through all of them-

The last five were Dick taking selfies with one of them. Tim wondered how that conversation had gone. He hoped not _Hi! I’m actually Nightwing, can I take a selfie with your dog?_

Oh god, he better remember to ask Dick about it later.

“Okay, done,” he said, shoving Jason’s phone back at him and picking up his book. “Now leave me alone _please_.”

Tim managed to get another two pages in, before the silence of the room was suddenly split by Jason’s phone blasting music. Tim groaned.

“You like these guys right?” Jason asked, turning the volume up. And, if Tim was honest, _yes_ , he did like Fall Out Boy-

But not while he was trying to concentrate.

“Turn it off please,” he said, rather loudly, “I can’t focus.” Jason rolled his eyes, and the music ended. Tim gave a relieved sigh, turning back to his book.

Another page, if that, and Jason had moved again, was grabbing his legs, the couch dipping as he sat down, settling them on his lap. Tim glanced over his book, groaned, then went back to reading. Whatever. If Jason wanted to sit closer fine, Tim was more then happy to use him as a leg rest.

“Wanna see a picture of Cass and Steph making out?”

“You absolutely do not have a picture of that,” Tim said, not even looking up from his book. “I know, because I would have it first. Steph would have texted me the moment it was done.”

Jason scoffed, but Tim knew he was right.

“What about-”

“Jason.” Tim set his book on his chest again, looking down the couch at him. “Whatever you have that you _think_ I want to see, I don’t. Trust me. All I want to do is finish this book. That’s it.”

Tim picked it back up, trying to remember where he left off on the page. Once he found it, he fell back into it, aware that Jason had grown quiet. Which, was what he wanted, so he felt odd feeling a bit anxious over it-

He had just turned the page when he felt him moving, figured Jason was going to get up, maybe finally leave. Instead, though, he reached out, plucking the book from Tim’s hands, holding it off the couch.

“Hey-” Tim started, before he was cut off, Jason stretching out over him, pressing his mouth over his. Tim’s eyes went wide, his hands moving to Jason’s shoulders, ready to push him off-

Instead, the flexed against his jacket, before clutching tightly. Tim’s eyes slid shut and he opened his mouth, making a little sound in the back of his throat as Jason’s tongue ran along his own. When Jason pulled back, Tim glanced up through dark lashes, caught the smirk on his face.

“Still wanna read?” he whispered, and Tim huffed, letting go of Jason’s shoulder and reaching out, knocking the book from his hand. It thudded to the floor.

“There’s always Wiki,” he reasoned, and Jason’s smirk turned into a grin.

“That’s my babybird.” He leaned down, kissing Tim again, talking against his mouth, “Maybe we should text Dick-”

“Don’t push it,” Tim muttered, hooking both his arms around Jason’s neck. Because, as tempting as it was, Tim knew if he had _both of them_ here, he wouldn’t be doing anything until patrol.

And he was hoping there might be time to read the Wiki page on the book before he went out. After all, Jason couldn’t distract him _all night_ -

Right?


	34. Breakfast in Bed (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: ""You should make me breakfast in bed. Because you love me." for Tim/Kon?"

“I’m hungry,” Tim whispered, stretching out in the bed. Kon raised an eyebrow, already up and half dressed.

“Okay?” He worked his jeans closed, and Tim frowned, rolling his eyes.

His boyfriend could be clueless sometimes. “You should make me breakfast in bed.” Kon turned, holding a tshirt in his hand.

“Why?”

“Because you love me,” Tim pointed out, rolling onto his side to face his lover. “Because it’s a nice thing to do for someone you love.” Then, because he couldn’t resist. “And because of that thing I did last night.”

Kon’s cheeks flushed, and Tim laughed, settling back in against the pillows and tugging the blanket up higher. Kon was too fun to tease- and maybe he was a bit of a brat for it at times, but he couldn’t resist.

Kon tugged his tshirt on, leaning over the bed, kissing Tim’s temple- still blushing, he noticed, before he left the room.

Tim didn’t expect him to actually make him breakfast, but it was worth a shot. He rolled onto his belly, pressing his face over into Kon’s pillow, thinking he might let himself drift back to sleep. Thinking maybe the tower could hold together without him for another hour-

It had barely been a few minutes, and Tim was just about to drift, when he smelled something faintly burning.

He was sure he had never woken up so quickly in his life.

He stumbled out of the bed, grabbing his sweatpants that were abandoned on the floor and hopping into them, pushing the door to Kon’s room open and spilling out into the hallway.

“What happened?” he asked, bursting his way into the kitchen, finding Kon scowling at the stove, a pan of completely burnt eggs moved off the hot burner.

“I was going to make you breakfast,” Kon admitted, and Tim felt his shoulder slump, the tension washing from his body. “I thought maybe I wouldn’t burn anything this time.”

Tim smiled, walking over to his boyfriend and wrapping his arms around him, pressing his face into Kon’s side. “I was sort of joking,” Tim admitted, “I didn’t actually think you’d do it.”

“You said it was a nice thing to do for someone you love.” Tim blushed, glancing up at his boyfriend and squeezing him.

“Yeah, it is. And I appreciate the effort. I know cooking…isn’t your thing. C’mon,” he pulled back, taking Kon’s hand, tugging him away from the stove. “Let’s shower and go get breakfast. And coffee. _Definitely coffee_.”

Kon smiled, following Tim out of the kitchen. “Together, or separately?”

Tim paused in the hallway, glancing back at Kon, at the inquisitive- and playful- smile on his face.

Oh, _damn that smile_.

“Depends,” Tim whispered, tugging Kon back into his bedroom, already knowing the answer, “How hungry are you?”

Tim was sure they would both agree, breakfast could wait.


	35. I Want a Kid (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "domestic au starters!!! "I want a child" for jaytim?? If you're not too busy/ if you're interested!! xoxo"

“You want a _what_?” Tim nearly choked on the straw of his iced coffee, couldn’t believe he had actually heard Jason correctly.

The man cross the table from him didn’t even lower his sunglasses. “I want a kid.” He lifted his coffee, taking a sip, and Tim, once again, nearly choked.

“That’s what I thought you said.” He pulled off his straw, wished Jason would take his damned sunglasses off, so he could tell if he was joking. His mouth was set in a serious line. “Kinda sudden, don’t you think?”

“Maybe I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

“Maybe you should have brought it up sooner.”

“ _Maybe_ I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” Tim frowned.

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious, Jay.” Jason sighed, pulling his sunglasses off, staring directly at Tim. Into him.

Yeah, that was definitely his serious look.

Tim had to be dreaming.

“Kids are…that’s a huge commitment Jason. Can’t we just, I don’t know, get a cat?” Jason laughed at that, and Tim rolled his eyes. “I’m _serious_. I…I don’t even know if I want kids. You really do?”

Jason nodded, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his chin on one hand. Still just looking at Tim. “I do. I figured you would.”

“I just. I never thought about it much.” Tim shrugged a shoulder, reaching for his iced coffee again.

“I think you’d be a good dad,” Jason offered, and _that_ had Tim blushing. 

“Yeah well, put me around kids and maybe you’ll change your tune. Can’t we just get the cat? Like, maybe as a test run?” Jason laughed, and Tim felt a smile pulling on his own lips. “And I mean, where would we even _get_ a kid?”

“Oh, we can just walk into Babies R Us and pick out the latest model.” Tim broke out in laughter, shoving his coffee away so he couldn’t choke on his straw- again- and Jason grinned at him. Grinned because it was always good to see Tim laugh. “But seriously Timmy. We can adopt.”

Tim’s laughter calmed down, and he looked at Jason’s eyes, studied to calmness there. He truly was serious.

“You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?”

A gentle nod. “Maybe I’d like to make sure there’s one less kid that has to go through what I did.” Tim was quiet for a moment. He couldn’t fault Jason on that- his heart was in the right place, that was for sure. Tim knew Jason hadn’t had it easy before Bruce had come along- truth be told, he of course didn’t _after_ either, but still.

Tim reached out, laid his hand on the table, palm up, and Jason took it in one of his own, stroking his thumb in little circles against his palm.

“How about we think about it,” Tim whispered, “Now that the idea is out there. This isn’t something we’d want to…you know. Rush into.” Jason nodded, his mouth in the faintest of smiles- understanding.

For a moment, Tim tried to imagine them with a _kid_. Jason holding a little toddler in his strong arms, the kid riding on his shoulders, tugging on his hair. Following Jason around imitating- because who didn’t want to imitate daddy?

Tim found he was smiling, and knew Jason had caught it too. He reached with his free hand for his coffee, wrapping his lips around the straw, as Jason finally released his hand, reaching for his own coffee.

Yeah, they could think about it, Tim was sure. And he wasn’t all that worried about Jason- it was himself that he was worried about.

“Still think a cat is a good test run,” he said, around his straw, and Jason only smiled as he put his sunglasses back on.


	36. Kisses Make it Better (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "I feel like this "Kisses won't make it better, but you can try." would make an interesting Dickdami scene. I prefer Dick saying it but up to you."

Dick stumbled down, dropping one of his Eskrima sticks, hand going to hold his side, wincing. He leaned back against the wall, staring up at the sky, mist falling down, coating his cheeks, his hair. He couldn’t exactly call it rain.

“Nightwing took a hit,” he heard Damian saying, the teen walking towards him. “GCPD have been contacted, targets are incapacitated. We need a pick up.”

He reached Dick, crouching down and reaching out, gripping Dick’s chin and squeezing gently, guiding it so he was forced to look into Damian’s eyes.

“Look at my Grayson,” he whispered, quiet enough that he seemed alright breaking his own strict _no names in the field_ rule. Dick looked up at him, offered a cocky, albeit pained, half smile.

“Relax little D,” he whispered, “I’m still here. Just my ribs.” And a good pull to a few leg muscles. And his back was on fire, had banged it a few times. Torn muscle, maybe.

But he would live. Easily.

Damian clicked his tongue, reaching out to press against Dick’s ribs. Dick hissed, tilting his head back again, wincing. “Careful kid,” he whispered, “Something’s broken in there.”

Damian nodded, eyeing Dick, who had tipped his head back down. Then, carefully he leaned in, his mouth ghosting against the corner of Dick’s.

Dick managed to raise his eyebrows. That was possibly the last thing he had expected from Damian, in that moment. “Kisses won’t make it better,” he mused, even though he was smiling, despite the countless aches in his body. Damian frowned, and Dick dared to chuckle- and god, did it hurt. “But you can try.”

Damian had fallen from his crouch to his knees now, between Dick’s legs, he glanced up, before moving down to all fours, leaning in to kiss Dick’s chin, softly, then once, along his jaw. Dick closed his eyes, hummed softly when Damian’s lips moved up, towards his ear. The teen was careful to not touch him otherwise, to not lean on him- and Dick was grateful for that. His ribs were aching worse then he remembered they did the last time he broke them.

There was a kiss near his eye, soft as the flutter of his own eyelashes, and Dick was beginning to think someone had switched his Damian with a look a like. “You get abducted during the fight?” Dick whispered, cracking another painted smile. Damian pulled back, frowning. “You’re about as sweet as, ah-” Dick shifted, winced, “a kitten.”

The frown turned to a scowl. “I thought affection may be a suitable distraction for you, Grayson, since you always seem to crave it. It appears I was wrong.”

Dick dropped his remaining Eskrima stick, reaching up to wrap his arm loosely around Damian’s shoulders.

“C’mere,” he whispered, pulling him in. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe kisses do make it better.” 

When Damian kissed him again, he was sure the teen was smiling.


	37. I Could Watch You All Day (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [sakura-tamiko](http://sakura-tamiko.tumblr.com/) asked: "Maybe DickDami "I could watch you all day"?"

Dick dragged his finger along his phone, his other hand gripping a spoon. With more luck then grace, he managed to get it to his mouth without looking, having a few texts from Jason he was trying to sort out.

He never knew which were serious, and which were just jokes.

Spoon still on his mouth, he felt that itch at the back of his neck, like someone was watching him. Carefully, he glanced up, saw Damian sitting across from him, both situated at the tiny table in Dick’s kitchenette. Dick smiled around the spoon, and Damian glanced away, that little scowl on his face.

Dick looked back down at his phone, setting his spoon back in the now mostly empty bowl, furrowing his brow. Did Jason actually get into a fight last night, or was this code from some crazy threeway-

And there it was again. That feeling. Dick glanced up, caught Damian quickly glancing down at his own phone, scrolling idly. Sucking on his tongue, Dick dared to glance down, ignoring the feeling as it prickled at the back of his neck, waiting-

Stealing one quick glance through his thick lashes- and yes, Damian was definitely watching him.

“Do I look funny or something?” Dick asked, lifting his head fully, and Damian furrowed his brows. “You’ve been staring at me.”

Damian’s cheeks flushed, and he glanced away. “You look fine,” he mumbled, and Dick leaned back in his chair, cocking his had to one side. Sometimes, Damian was hard to read. Or, a lot of the time, if he was honest. Maybe it was because he was _Damian_ , and Dick was new to this whole mess with him- but he knew as much that there was definitely something going on.

“Really? Well, good to know that my boyfriend thinks so.” Dick winked at Damian, who had looked back- and damn if the teen’s cheeks didn’t tinge darker. It was funny, how easily he actually blushed. Even if Dick knew he would deny it.

Something about how assassins didn’t _blush_.

_Yeah, and they didn’t snuggle either. Or cling in their sleep. Or whimper…_

“That term is so juvenile,” Damian complained, and Dick rolled his eyes.

“It’s a perfectly fine term, and you’re not changing the subject on me.” He stretched his leg out, hooking his foot behind Damian’s ankle under the table, rubbing gently. “C’mon babybat, spill. What was so interesting.”

“Get your foot off of me,” Damian said, looking disgusted- and Dick saw through it. It was absolutely fake, and had him nearly laughing. Okay, maybe he could read Damian a little better then he thought.

He didn’t move his foot, other then to rub Damian’s ankle again. “Damian.”

The teen huffed out a sigh. “Just you.” Dick raised his eyebrows, and Damian frowned, as if Dick’s silent pressure to go on was painful. “You are…interesting, Grayson. To me.”

Dick smiled at that, the sweet, knowing kind, and Damian rolled his eyes.

“Grayson, don’t-”

“You like me, little D.” 

The teen scoffed. “Of course I _like you_ , Grayson. If I did not I would not put up with your constant chatter and annoying behavior.”

“Well true, but not exactly what I meant. You _like like_ me.”

“That sounds like something a child would say.”

“Well…it is, okay, but still. It’s _true_.” Damian clicked his tongue, before he pushed his chair back, pulling free of Dick’s foot.

“If you must know,” he offered, standing up, “Of course I like you, Grayson. I would think my affection for you would be rather blatant at this point.” Then, as if in after thought, “And I was simply looking at you. I could watch you all day.”

Then, before Dick could even react, Damian was walking out of the room, heading for the bathroom. Dick heard the door close, the shower turn on, and he just sat there, staring at the space Damian had taken up moments before.

Smiling. Smiling like a fool, because that was as close as he was going to get to Damian admitting he was smitten. And maybe he didn’t mention it, but Dick could use the acknowledgement, now and again, that he wasn’t the only one head-over-heels in this equation.

In that moment, he felt like he had it.


	38. Wedding Day (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Would you consider writing something cute with Tim and Kon getting married?"
> 
> I wrote this yesterday. Considering what happened in the states with marriage equality, I was over joyed to get the prompt. I needed to let some of my excitement out somehow :3

Tim stared into the mirror, taking in every stray strand of hair, the way his eyelashes frames his eyes. Looked for every spot of imperfection he could find. His stomach was in knots, even the idea of water made him queasy. He knew he’d be excited when this day came- but this nervous?

He was trained by Batman. He had helped to lead the Titans for years. He’d faced off against Gotham’s finest rogues, against Ra’s Al Ghul even- but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this type of nervous. This strange elation coupled with the sure knowledge that he was dreaming, that somehow this wouldn’t work.

And yet, it had to.

There was a knock at the door, and a moment later it opened, his brothers pushing through. He didn’t turn to greet them, didn’t acknowledge them until Dick’s hand was squeezing his shoulder, and Jason was looming over him.

“Trying to break that thing?” he asked, jerking a thumb towards the mirror, and Tim rolled his eyes.

“Jay, hush,” Dick said in a low voice. “Tim, you look great. C’mon, turn around, let’s get a real look.” Tim straightened up, turning around, waited as Dick and Jason thoroughly looked him over. 

A moment passed, and it was Jason who reached out, straightening his jacket- and then Dick, fumbling with his collar. “Can’t send you out there a mess,” Jason teased, and Tim was ready for him to continue, the make a jab about Tim wearing _white_ -

Not that he and Kon were aiming to mimic the color of a dress, they just rather looked the way the two colors stood out against each other. And Tim wore it well- Kon had seemed to be in disbelief over it.

But the second jab never came. Instead, when Dick pulled back, Jason was wrapping his arms around Tim, pulling him in for a hug. Tim squirmed, for a minute, before settling against Jason’s chest, wrapping his own arms around him.

“If you make me cry, babybird,” he breathed, “I will kick your ass.”

“After the honeymoon,” Tim teased, and Jason squeezed him tighter.

“Yeah, after.” Tim pulled back, gripping onto Jason’s arms, smiling up at him- and yes, the corners of his eyes were wet. But he was holding together. Tim was sure he would, until later. Maybe he’d shed a few tears during the ceremony, but no one would notice. Or, no one would be _stupid_ enough to notice.

“Okay, give him here,” Dick said, tugging Tim over for another hug. Tim returned it, felt Dick placing a kiss into his hair. “Proud of you, babybird. All of us. The whole family.” Then, a moment later, “And you look great, stop fussing already.”

He blushed a bit, stepping back, glancing past the two oldest, spotting Damian hanging back a few feet. His type scowl was set on his lips, but- it seemed far less intimidating in that moment. More like a watercolor hiding something, a base image.

“Not going to take a swing at me?” Tim teased, and Damian rolled his eyes. He stalked over towards him- and for a moment, Tim thought maybe he shouldn’t have teased him about it, shouldn’t provoke him.

But he stopped, a step away, glanced towards the floor as he mumbled, “You…look good, Drake.”

Well, that was definitely better then a punch.

There was a pause, as Damian glanced back, eyeing Tim, a glance at his arms, back up to his face, back down. Tim raised an eyebrow, spreading them slightly- and in that moment Damian moved in, wrapped his arms around Tim. He was the same height as him now, and Tim expected by the end of the year, he’d be taller.

Tim didn’t react for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around his youngest brother, hugging him back, Damian was shockingly warm, oddly gentle- yet he seemed to cling.

“Be sure you do not forget about the family,” he whispered, and then, as if in after thought, “Not that we would _miss_ you. But-”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t even bother,” Tim said with a laugh, “We’ll just pretend you’ve got a cover for that, okay?” Damian pulled back, and smiled- actually smiled.

“Alright, we’ve got places to be,” Dick said, reaching for Damian’s shoulder, pulling him back, “Tim, we’ll see you soon.” Tim nodded, watching his brothers leave-

And suddenly he, he was alone again.

From outside, he could hear music. Picking up, people getting in their places, he was sure. He wanted to see how crowded it was, but none of the windows in the room faced out against the massive property behind the manor. But, considering his family, the Titans, and however many members of the league Bruce and Clark had deemed necessary to invite- well, he was sure it was packed.

And when the door opened a second time, he knew it was time to find out.

Bruce stood there, ever at home in his formal wear- Tim wasn’t sure he could ever wear it that well- smiling at him. Actually smiling.

A smile from Damian and Bruce within ten minutes of each other- Tim was sure this was a dream.

“Are you ready?” Tim took a deep breath, then nodded, following Bruce from the room. They headed downstairs, towards the back of the manor, and once Bruce nodded to Alfred, who hurried off to settle everyone down, to begin to ceremony, Tim realized it was actually happening.

He was actually getting married.

After all these years, all the times he was sure he and Kon wouldn’t even live to see the morning. All the battles, the scars, the rage and the assurance that death would be swifter then he ever was- it was happening.

Tim blinked, felt the corners of his eyes watering. In that moment, Bruce offered up his arm, and Tim took it, squeezing- felt like a child.

“Good tears?” He asked, and Tim nodded. “We’re all happy for you, Tim.”

Tim smiled through it, unable to form words now.

When the music picked up, and Alfred was signaling them- good old Alfred, Tim was sure the entire wedding would have been a disaster without all his help- and god, he was grinning, looking at Tim like he was watching his own child take this step. Tim would make a point to hug him later, to thank him, for all he had done.

The Manor had been the perfect choice, the chairs that were set out spaced enough that everyone could breathe- Tim had worried about space. Silly, considering how much space Wayne Manor had. And everyone- they were watching him. He tried to glance around, saw the faces of his family, his friends- his team mates. Mentors.

Everyone was there, for him. _For them_.

Tim dared to glance ahead, his brothers waiting for him, in a line- at the head Stephanie, in her pretty purple dress, grinning at him. She had flaunted her _best man_ title, fought everyone who tried to call her the maid of honor. For a moment, during the rehearsal, Tim had thought she and Dick would have ended up both with black eyes.

He glanced over, saw Kara and Cassie both smiling too, but they faded fast, when Tim finally saw Kon.

Kon, smiling at him, staring right at him like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Kon, looking perfect in black, looking nervous and out of place but so utterly in love that it didn’t matter.

Kon looking at him like he had for so many days in the past, the way he would, for so many days to come.

Tim managed to take his place next to him, Bruce leaving to take a seat next to Clark, not on Tim’s side- but there really was no separation of families here- everyone had always been, would always be, one giant inter-tangled group.

Tim barely heard what was said. His heart was pounding in his chest, pulse in his head, the only thing he could hear. He was sure he would drop the ring when he picked it up, slid it onto Kon’s finger. Was sure he was trembling, as Kon took his hand, gently rubbing his palm into the bones of his knuckles once, before sliding the ring on Tim’s finger.

Tim had said the words, but they were mist in the sea of his memories, flooding, flashing with every moment he had ever told Kon he’d loved him. Every little smile, every kiss- flashing as if he was dying, as if he needed to see them one more time before he could go.

The butterflies were so intense in his belly, he was sure he could fly.

“I know pronounce you husband and,” there was a pause, a smile, and then, “husband.” And in that moment, Tim could hear above his pulse, hear the cheers as everyone cried out for them, clapping. Heard behind him, his brothers chanting his name, clapping, heard Stephanie louder then all of them combined.

And, then, “You can kiss now.”

As if they needed to be reminded.

Kon reached out for Tim first, pulling him in by his waist. Tim tilted his head, in a practiced motion, one he had done so many times, mornings with Kon in the kitchen, the feeling of cold tile under his feet and that humming happiness in his belly. Nights on the streets, when they had both _survived_ , again.

His arms went around Kon’s neck as their lips pressed together, warm, firm movements- the kind that promised more, but was controlled, for the sake of their audience. Tim knew, later, they would be unhinged.

Behind Kon, Cassie whistled at them, and even when they pulled apart, there was still applause, cheering. After all- how many people in their line of work actually got to experience this moment of happiness, actually lived long enough to see it?

Tim pulled form Kon’s neck, took one of his hands, tangling their fingers together. He smiled up at him, like the butterflies could shine like lights in his face. Like he was the happiest he had ever been.

Honestly, Tim was pretty sure he was.

They turned, and then, both grinning, lifted their hands in a little cheer, before moving down the aisle. They had gotten about half way down it before Kon was turning, grabbing Tim and pulling him up, into the air, hovering over everyone. Tim laughed, his hair brushing along his cheeks, into his eyes-

And then Kon kissed him again, holding Tim tight against him. This time, the controlled movements were gone, and it was a rush of wet lips and Tim giving Kon that small sound in the back of his throat, smiling into it like a fool in love as he wrapped one arm around his neck, opening his mouth when Kon licked his bottom lip.

Below them, the crowd was laughing. Below him, Stephanie was cheering, tossing an arm over Cassie’s shoulder, daring her to carry her up for a better look. Tim’s brothers were smiling, even Damian, who had a smile that mirrored his father’s in that moment.

When the kiss broke, Kon rested his forehead against Tim’s, smiling at him.

“You’ll _always_ be my Robin,” he breathed, a ghost song of days past, when I love you was too much, but meant behind other words.

Tim felt tears in his eyes. He didn’t bother to hide them, just kept smiling, was sure his cheeks would ache soon. But it didn’t matter, as his chest filled with such heat, such joy, that he was sure he was the one keeping them in the air.

“And you’ll always be my clone boy,” he whispered, and Kon closed his eyes, squeezing Tim tighter. 

Yes, Tim was sure he would never be happier then he was, in that moment.


	39. Motivation (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "( I have to, I really have to ) the first time Damian called / referred to Dick as hot O UO ? ?"
> 
> It wasn't even a prompt, I just turned it into one. Oops.

“He’s really eye candy,” Stephanie said, gripping her chin and smirking as she watched Dick, on one of the training mats. He was down to just his sweat pants, which clung an inch too low on his hips, skin slick with sweat- glistening, really.

Tim quirked up an eyebrow, but followed her gaze. “Are you checking Dick out?”

“Of course I am,” she breathed, “Don’t even try to tell me you haven’t. I’ve seen it.”

Tim shrugged a shoulder. “Well, okay, yeah. I have. But…Stephanie, you’re gawking.” She laughed then, reaching over and ruffling Tim’s hair.

“Jealous?”

“Pfft. _Hardly_.” Tim shifted, folding his arms, and Stephanie laughed, reaching over to shove him playful. Behind them, Damian emerged, in his own training clothes, water bottle in hand.

“Brown. Drake. I hope you plan to actually exercise something aside of your mouths.” Tim frowned, as Damian appeared on his other side, following their eyes to the training mat, to Dick, who was stretching now.

“Yeah, in a minute Damian,” Stephanie said, glancing back, “We’re uh, a little preoccupied.” Damian quirked up an eyebrow, before clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Pathetic.”

“Like you couldn’t get distracted by that,” Stephanie offered, jerking her thumb towards Dick. “I mean, c’mon Damian.”

Damian followed her gaze again, then said, almost flatly, “Grayson being hot doesn’t need to serve as a distraction.”

Next to him, Tim choked.

Stephanie let her arm drop, turning to stare at Damian, pretty eyes wide. “Wait, did you just-”

“Admit that Dick is hot?” Tim finished, staring at Damian as well. The teen shrugged a shoulder, uncapping his water bottle and taking a sip. When he pulled it away, there was a smirk on his lips.

“Why so shocked? You both admitted it yourselves.” Damian capped the water bottle, glancing at both of them. They were openly gawking at _him_ now. “Like I said, it needn’t be a distraction. It can serve as _motivation_.” Damian walked away from them, towards the mat then, Dick looking up when he was a few feet closer.

Stephanie and Tim couldn’t hear their exchange, but Damian set his water bottle down, stepping onto the mat, and the two watched as Dick laughed, smiling at him- charming as ever- and settled into a sparring stance.

“That little brat,” Stephanie breathed, “He’s going to get to feel Dick up in all the best ways.” Tim glanced at Stephanie, then back at the two.

“You don’t think he’s really-” Tim stopped as Dick moved to grab Damian, who ducked down, shouldering him in the stomach, pushing him hard, hard enough to get him down on his knees. “Really…”

“Oh my _god_.” Stephanie clapped her hands together. “God bless Damian.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.”

“I can’t believe he said any of _that_.” Stephanie paused for a moment, then, “Is it just me, or did Damian get…I don’t know, hot. Like, over night?”

“I’m not hearing this.” Tim reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose, as Dick tried to roll Damian, but the teen stopped him, pinning Dick down on his back, straddling his hips. Dick’s laughter broke out, and Damian leaned back, still straddling him. 

Stephanie inhaled sharply. “They’d be hot together.”

“Are you _done_ , Steph? I can’t handle this.” He glanced past his hand though, and Damian was still straddling Dick, glancing down at him- maybe listening to him talk. Tim couldn’t exactly make out the words, just heard Dick’s voice, faintly. And- was he crazy, or did Damian just roll his hips, slightly?

He definitely had to be crazy.

Next to him, Stephanie cupped her hands over her mouth, suddenly yelling, “Dick! Damian called you hot!”

The two glanced back towards her, Damian shooting a glare for a moment, before his face went back to his typical pout, and Dick started laughing again.

Until the sound choked off, and Damian had definitely just rolled his hips.

“We’re leaving,” Tim said, grabbing Stephanie’s arm. “They can have the training room, let’s go for a run.”

“Wait I wanna see if-”

“Hell. No.” Tim tugged, dragging her away from the mat, afraid to look back. There was no way he’d actually seen there. There was _no way_ Damian had actually said Dick was _hot_ , and proceeded to show off to he and Stephanie that he could get him into such a compromising position.

Tim swallowed thickly and hoped no one else decided to use the training room anytime soon. Especially not by the strange, excited sound Stephanie made, before he pulled her out the door.


	40. Say That Without a Smile (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "Rumor has it that Dick's smile can cure any mood & that his laughter is good for the soul 

“Why the long face, little D?” Dick peered over the couch, at a rather obviously sulking Damian, who glared up at him.

“Go away, Grayson.” Dick frowned, moving around the couch, hopping over the arm and settling in, stretching an arm out over the back cushion. “Do you not understand the concept of _away_?”

“Nope,” Dick teased, offering a smile. “So what happened?” Silence. “Damian.” Still, nothing except that scowl. “…What did Bruce do.”

“-tt- What makes you think father did something?”

“Because I know him, and you. What did he do _this time_?” Damian rolled his eyes at the emphasis- but Dick noticed his scowl had lessened, slightly.

“He has benched me from patrol for the week,” Damian finally offered. Then, “…and grounded me.”

 _Ah_. Dick leaned his head back slightly. “Wanna tell me why?”

“It is trivial.”

“Spill.”

Another click of his tongue. Dick was sure he’d be hearing that sound, even when he was gone and dead, in the ground for years. “He believes I acted out of line with Drake.”

Dick wasn’t surprised. “What’d you do to Tim?”

“Why is it what _I_ did?” Damian’s voice had raised, the slightest color coming to his cheeks. “Why is it always what _I_ did to Drake? Does he ever take the blame for these things?” Damian crossed his arms, slouching. “And I am too _old_ for father to ground. He still thinks I’m a child.”

Dick didn’t comment on that- truth be told, he was fairly sure Bruce could still ground _him_ , if he wanted to. Instead he reached out, grabbing one of Damian’s arms and jerking him forward. The teen fell, tugged partially onto Dick’s lap and the older man’s arms went around him.

“Gray-son,” he breathed, pushing at his chest, trying to get away as Dick squeezed him.

“Nope, there’s no escape! Hug it out, little D. Hug it out.” Damian squirmed again, before his cheek was pressed right against Dick’s chest.

“Going-to…crush me,” he forced out, and Dick only squeezed harder.

“Can’t hear you over the sound of healing hugs, kiddo.” Damian scowled, turning his face directly into Dick’s chest, inhaling.

Inhaling his stupid fruity soap that made him smell like a woman, the stupid scent of his cotton tshirt, the _stupid smell of his skin beneath it all_ -

Relaxing, because it was impossible not to when Dick smelled so _stupidly good_.

“C’mon, I have faith in you Dami,” Dick offered, and with a huff, Damian wrapped his arms around Dick, hugging him loosely back. Dick chuckled. “Put a little more feeling in it.”

Damian squeezed tighter, lifting his head and rolling his eyes. His mouth was in its natural pout now, the scowl dissipated. Dick grinned at him.

“Much better.” He leaned down, nuzzling his cheek, his hair, and Damian squirmed again.

“Ugh. Grayson, stop. Your affection is nauseating.” Dick grinned, nuzzling down against his neck, hands splaying along his sides, before his fingers moved, flexing and digging lightly into Damian’s sides, attempting to tickle him.

There was a moment where Damian simply sucked in a breath, before he was pushing away, cheeks flushing. “Grayson!” A moment later, and a breathy laugh escaped him, his head falling back as he shoved at Dick’s shoulder.”Stop this!”

“Pretty sure you’ve said assassins aren’t _ticklish_ ,” he teased, watching the way Damian’s cheeked heated up with each laugh. It was a strange sound, not like his chuckle, but utterly unbidden, free. Dick grinned, couldn’t help but laugh back, turning Damian and tossing him down onto the couch, on his back. Dick leaned over him, going for his sides again, and Damian wrapped his legs loosely around him, turning the two into a tangled mess.

“Kill-you,” he breathed, shoving at Dick, who finally stopped, pressing his forehead down against Damian’s stomach and openly laughing, straight up from his belly. Damian tried to frown- really, he did- but found his lips were stuck in a half quirked smile. “I hate you, Grayson.”

“Say that without a smile, and maybe I’ll believe it.”

Damian wanted to hate that he _couldn’t_ \- but it was hard to hate much of anything, with Dick around.


	41. Spy AU (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [sakura-tamiko](http://sakura-tamiko.tumblr.com/) asked: "Okkkk, DickDamian fairytale??? Or spy AU?? Hahaha have a good day!"

Dick straightened his jacket, glancing around the room. Bodies filled the ballroom floor, elegantly dressed, mingling and dancing under the high crystalline lights. Music mixed with endless voices, the sounds of glasses being raised, clinked together in small, private toasts.

His target was there, he knew. She had to be- an event like this wouldn’t be the same without the heiress Brown gracing it. He simply had to find her.

“Eyes on the target yet?” Barbara’s voice was in his ear, and he reached up, casually brushing his hair back, hiding the fact that he pressed the tiny ear piece in further.

“Negative.” Silence, and Dick smiled at a couple, bowing his head in greeting, before making his way further into the room, towards the bodies that moved with east together, dancing.

He was on the outskirts, when he felt a hand brush his shoulder, turning as his hand was taken in a firm grip. “Dance with me.”

Not a question. Dick blanched, for a moment, staring into Damian’s bright eyes, the younger man smiling at him, guiding him towards the floor. Dick couldn’t bring himself to stop him, even as Damian grabbed his hands, playing the feminine role, allowing Dick to guide him a step back.

“What are you doing?” Dick whispered, glancing away from his partner, towards the guests watching. He couldn’t be seen with Damian- should something happen, it needed to be believed they were each acting alone. Should the plan fall through.

His partner rolled his eyes. “Our comlinks aren’t hooked together, how else was I supposed to get a word in?” He allowed Dick to turn him, moving easily. Dick hadn’t expected Damian to be able to follow his lead so well- or at all, for that matter.

“Something to share?” Damian smirked.

“She’s here.” Dick quirked up an eyebrow. “Next room over, I saw her. She should be appearing within the next thirty seconds.” Dick nodded, and Damian gripped his fingers. “Dip me.”

“Wha?”

“Just do it.” Dick did, leaning forward slightly, supporting Damian as he dipped back, those sharp eyes glancing as people parted, as their target arrived, just as Damian predicted. Dick followed his gaze, took in Stephanie Brown in her gorgeous purple down, blonde waves free around her neck and shoulders, smiling her controlled but deceiving smile.

“You’re good,” Dick breathed, pulling Damian back up. The younger man smiled, stopping his movements and pulling his hands free, reaching out to brush his fingers over the lapels of Dick’s jacket.

“Don’t sound so _shocked_.” Damian dared a glance back, before turning to Dick, suddenly reaching for his neck, his warm and curling around the back and pulling Dick in, crashing their mouths together. Dick froze for a moment, unsure how to react- unsure what his partner was thinking- before Damian was pulling away. Quick, without the chance for Dick to make up his mind.

But when Dick looked past him, Stephanie was approaching. Flanked by guards- by her personal assistance, guardian- best friend, depending on the report Dick read, whether it was official, of simple tabloids.

_Tim Drake. Risk level- high. Do not engage._

But he was staring right at Dick, just as Stephanie was.

“Mind if I cut in?” she asked, brushing a lock of blonde hair back, and Damian stepped back, disappearing just as easily into the crowd as he had appeared.

Damn, he was good. Dick could easily forget, considering their age difference. Easy to forget the kid had been doing this kind of thing since- well, since he was _actually_ a kid.

He turned his gaze back to Stephanie, smiling at her as he took one hand, the other settling at her waist. “Do I know you?” she asked.

“I would doubt it,” Dick offered, guiding her onto the floor, “But I know you.” Stephanie laughed.

“Mm, everyone does. Do you have a name, handsome?” Dick spun them around, very quickly, and Stephanie let out the smallest breath.

“Do names matter?” Stephanie arched one delicate eyebrow.

“I think I like you.” Dick dipped her down, exactly as he had Damian, and when he pulled her up, his hand slid down to her hip, pulling her in so she was almost flush against him.

“Really now?” Stephanie’s eyes flashed, as Dick flicked his wrist, the tiny tracker he had been keeping there tumbling to his palm. He grabbed it with a single finger, snagging it in the layered folds of her gown, before it gave way to a high slit.

He offered up a charming smile, before there was a hand on Stephanie’s shoulder, gently guiding her back. Tim’s eyes were dark, blue like the pit of night, staring right into Dick.

Dick kept his face composed, but he felt his insides curl. 

“Come on Stephanie,” Dick whispered, “Remember, you have rounds to make.”

“You’re no fun Timmy,” she breathed, but patted his hand on her shoulder, before glancing back up at Dick. “See you around, handsome.” She winked at him, then allowed Tim to guide her away, into the folds of people. Dick waited until she was out of sight, before moving back into the crowds himself.

“Tracker in place,” he whispered, and he heard Barbara’s smile as she spoke.

“Perfect. Rendezvous at delta point with Robin.” Dick glanced about the room once more, before slipping further into the crowds, heading for the exit.

*

“-Tt-, took you long enough.” Damian glanced from his perch atop the Manor’s old kitchen counter. The room had since been replaced with a modern kitchen, and this one looked as if it hadn’t seen much light in the past ten years. He tossed a bag down towards Dick. “Strip. We have to go.”

Dick pulled his bow tie off, shrugging off his jacket. He leaned down, grabbing the bag and unzipping it as his other hand worked open his shirt.

“The tracker is in place?” Dick nodded. “Good. Knowing Miss Brown’s history, she won’t stay at this party long.”

“Not her style,” Dick finished, pulling his shirt off. “You read that in the official file, or the tabloids, little D?”

Damian clicked his tongue again, his eyes resting at the level of Dick’s collar bone. Dick swore he caught a moment where they flicked down, before moving back up, resting there again.

He never got his answer.

Instead Damian huffed, a moment later, and looked away, out towards the windows that rested above head level- the old kitchen set on the strange floor level that was almost a basement.

Dick knew from the layout, the Manor had a full, massive basement beneath this. And were they not so focused on Stephanie, it would warrant a little look-around.

Dick slipped into jeans and his grey tshirt, tossing a jacket over it. Damian hopped down finally, his own tight jeans tucked into boots, leather jacket covering most of his black v-neck.

Dick had a moment, remembering dipping him back on the dance floor, picturing how much of his collar bone, of the copper skin on his chest, he would’ve seen had he been wearing that v-neck instead of his tuxedo.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, following Damian quickly out of the kitchen, bag sung over his shoulder. They made it outside, unnoticed, and moved around the Manor, towards the parking area reserved for staff. It was full tonight, considering the party going on.

Dick tossed the bag, as Damian hopped on the bike they had hidden, grabbing a helmet and slipping it over his head. He tossed one to Dick, who climbed on behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing right up along the curve of his back.

Damian was pulling out, through the parked cars, the idling limousines, and onto the old streets. He drove on the reckless side of too fast, and it only had Dick clutching at him tighter, resisting the urge to splay a hand on his belly, to slide one down, lower.

He sucked on his lower lip, didn’t understand this strange urge. He’d worked with Damian before. Never on anything like this, this high-risk, high-priority, but this wasn’t the first time he’d been up close and personal with him.

_First time he’s kissed you, though._

Dick tried to push the thought from his mind, that brief moment where he hadn’t even had enough sense to kiss back- or was that his common sense, keeping him from doing it? This was his partner, after all. This was a mission.

In his ear, he heard Barbara, suddenly. “Nightwing, your target is moving.”

“Where?”

“Looks like back into the city. Hard to tell yet. I’m uploading the tracking data to Robin’s bike, it should appear on his screen in a minute.”

“Okay. We’re going dark from here, Oracle.” There was a moment, then,

“Be safe.”

“Always.” The line went dead, and despite the sound of the wind, the bike’s engine, and their helmets, Dick heard Damian yelling,

“I’ve got her on my screen. We’ll be in the city in less then ten minutes, then idle to see where she is en route to.”

Dick said nothing, only gave his partner’s waist a squeeze, fingers flexing against the fabric of his tshirt. 

He hadn’t been lying. They were going in dark- he’d ditch his ear piece the moment the bike stopped. He wouldn’t be able to contact Barbara until they were back at their hotel room- if they made it that far. He couldn’t risk having anything on him that could lead back to her.

But worse, he felt he was tripping into some sort of dark, some strange unknown, by the way his stomach tightened because despite the cold wind, Damian was warm against him.


	42. I'll Fall With You (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Dick: "You've been crying haven't you?" / Damian: "How could you love a monster like me". Either or both, I just wanna read Damian sad ...... Thank you!!!!!!"

Damian pulled his knees in closer to his chest, leaning his forehead down against them. The air was cold, a bit too cold, around him, the last breaths of autumn before Gotham’s fall gave way to winter.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping behind the dark of his eyes, maybe he would find a different picture. But he didn’t- still the man’s broken jaw, the way blood and two teeth splattered from his mouth as Damian’s fist connected with it. The way his eyes were glossed over from the pain of a cracked rib, a dislocated shoulder.

The way Damian, in the heat of that moment, _liked_ that pain. The way he wanted to paint his knuckles with that blood, see the man’s face torn _utterly open_.

He shook as he exhaled, his very ribs vibrating as he tried to keep the feeling inside, bottled up in his belly. Still, his eyes stung, the corners wet, and he cursed himself when he felt a tear make its way down his cheek.

Assassins didn’t cry.

Assassins also didn’t leave a man half dead in the street. They finished the job.

And Robin- well, Robin wouldn’t have taken a beating nearly that far.

Where did that leave Damian, then? Straddling the line still between what he was born for, trained for- and the role he had taken, had worked years to learn. It left him in a muddled middle-ground, where none of it made sense, if he was honest.

The urge for blood was still there.

The desire for justice was threaded in.

He couldn’t have _both_ , yet it seemed he was damned for life to try.

Silently, he sobbed, his cheeks wet now- when had there been that many tears? He pressed his forehead harder against his knees, wanted to hurtle himself over the ledge of the roof in that moment, get a few brief moments of pure, free-falling bliss. To clear his head.

Maybe he’d remember to get a hookshot off before he met the ground.

Behind him, he heard the gentle landing of boots, the even, soft footsteps he had grown to know over the years. Grown to worship, silently.

“Robin?”

Dick’s voice was gentle, cautious. Damian didn’t respond, trying to suck in a breath silently, trying to steady himself. Dick took another few steps towards him.

“Hey, are you-” he paused, watching the way Damian’s shoulders shook as he exhaled. When he closed the gap, getting down on one knee, Damian felt his fingers curl around his shoulder.

_Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look up._

Still, when Dick squeezed, Damian was lifting his head, glancing at him. His domino mask hid his eyes, but the streaks along his cheeks were still evident.

“You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

Damian jerked his shoulder away, turning to stare back at the sleeping city. “No,” he lied, obviously. Next to him, Dick was still watching.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Dick whispered, reaching out again, this time his hand resting between Damian’s shoulder blades, pressing into the yellow cape, just beneath his hood.

Damian was silent, trying to focus on anything except Dick’s hand pressed against him. Anything except the way he wanted to lean into the man, slide his head right up against his collar bone and rest there. 

But he did. He did have to lie. He had to lie to everyone, every moment. Even _himself_. Because he still didn’t know where he stood, after all these years. Not when that blood lust could lie dormant for months, and then suddenly seize him with an unholy death grip, make him see nothing but red, taste nothing but copper and iron and salt.

“Just talk to me, little D,” he whispered, slipping from code names to pet names, the familiarity of it causing Damian to choke on his breath, the little sound seeming so much louder up in that rooftop silence. He wanted to shove Dick away, he wanted to pull him closer. He wanted to curse him out, to grab Dick by his hair and kiss him. Wanted him gone and wanted him there.

The constant contradiction felt like it was tearing him apart at the seams, fiber by rotting fiber.

“Just let me help,” Dick offered now, his thumb rubbing little patterns near one of Damian’s shoulder blades. “You know, I love you.”

That was it. Something about the ease of that statement sent something snapping inside Damian, a tightly wound wire that broke so fiercely it seemed to sever the small strings of balance he had left. Strings worn away, day after day.

“How could you love a monster like me?” Damian snapped, reaching over and shoving Dick away. The man pulled back, kept his balance, as Damian tried to turn, released his knees and sprawled out on the rooftop, staring at him with damn near pupil-less eyes behind his mask.

Dick pushed himself up, so he was standing above Damian. Like a shadow, like a searing break in the calm night, yet part of it. A contradiction himself.

His mouth was set in a firm line, and Damian knew Dick knew what he was referring to. After all, it had been Dick’s hand around his wrist, jerking his arm back. Had been Dick’s chest he’d been pressed against as the older man had screamed, “Robin, enough!” forcing Damian’s hold on his victim to break.

 _His victim_. Wasn’t even a criminal now- Damian couldn’t think of him as such. Whatever he had done- Damian knew, knew the list of lives lost at his hands, of violence physical and sexual, not uncommon for a well used mob hand- it had faded. He was as Damian had intended him to be- _his_.

Except he was alive.

“We all have our moments,” Dick offered, even though his mouth remained serious. “All of us. Don’t make me count how many times your father has nearly beaten someone to death. Even I’ve crossed the line, Robin.”

 _Robin_. Was that really who should be answering this? Robin, or Damian Wayne, or Damian Al Ghul-

_Who the fuck was he?_

“You do not understand,” Damian managed, gritting his teeth, trying to find that center, that balance. But he was off kilter now. “I want it, Grayson. Every time. I wanted that man dead, and I would have done it.” He pushed himself up, standing slowly, the blood splatters on his cape visible now, the dried crust of it on his gloves. Some on his tunic. None of it his own. “I would have killed him, if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Dick was silent, and Damian almost felt like _laughing_.

“You and father- you have valid reasons for your rage. But this man, what had he done to me? Nothing, Grayson. _Nothing_. I wanted to kill him simply for the act. He could have been anyone. It would not have mattered.”

Damian tightened his hands into fists, so hard that beneath his gloves, his knuckles were white. And Dick kept staring at him, watching him, those few feet away that felt like antagonization. Felt like the space itself was laughing at him, at them, at all of this.

Felt like a mockery of whatever-the-fuck he and Grayson were.

“Come here,” Dick finally whispered. Damian stared at him, felt his lip twitching. He hesitated a moment, before he finally took those steps across the space, forced to close it himself, forced to remove himself from this unholy place of rage and desire that he wanted and _could not have_.

When he reached Dick, the older man lifted his hand, stroking his thumb along Damian’s chin, forcing him to hold his head up, to stare Dick right in the face. Didn’t matter that there was a glove in the way, that they both had their masks on- Damian swore he could feel the heat of Dick’s skin, and _those eyes_.

And suddenly, the rage was cracking, and that feeling from earlier, those tears and the breaks in his ribs and the self-hate Damian had felt while he was alone, were all flooding back.

He threw his arms around Dick, pressing his face into his chest, and Dick didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him, clutch him tightly. Damian sobbed silently, shook with each exhale, and Dick rubbed along the knots of his spine.

“The only thing that matters,” he offered, “is that you didn’t.”

“But,” Damian started, his voice cracking- and there was a flood of self-hate over the pure weakness he was showing in that moment. “I would have, had you not stepped in.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ll always be around then, isn’t it?” Damian said nothing, pressing his face up into the crook of Dick’s neck, inhaling the scent of his hair, of sweat, his suit, Gotham’s night air.

Life itself.

Damian didn’t believe he would be. And his silence told Dick that.

“I will be,” Dick offered again, “Someone has to keep you in line.”

A joke. A half smile on Dick’s lips. Another broken, mostly silent sob from Damian.

“I must do that for myself,” Damian finally mumbled, closing his eyes behind his mask. “But I can’t. If I don’t even know who I am.”

“You’re Damian,” Dick whispered, field rules about names be damned. Damian pulled back, shaking his head.

“How can you be so _sure_? How can you know?” He felt another tear trickle down his cheek, his ribs caving in, but held back the sobbing breath. “Am I Robin? Am I Damian Wayne? Am I Damian Al Ghul? _Am I anyone at all_?”

Dick pulled his hands from Damian’s back, reaching for his shoulders to grip them, steady him. Damian stared into his mask, wished he could see his eyes.

“You’re Damian,” Dick breathed, “Your last name be damned. You’re a Wayne in this city, you’ve got Al Ghul blood in your veins. You’re Robin by night. You’re all of these things.”

“But I _cannot be_!” Damian exhaled. “They contradict each other, Grayson. I cannot be a Wayne and an Al Ghul. I cannot be Robin, and be Damian.”

Dick’s fingers tightened, dug into Damian’s shoulders on the shy side of pain. The small rawness of it pulled Damian’s breath from his lips. “You _can_ ,” he breathed, “You have been. You’ve learned to put on the show the city needs, to fit Bruce’s name. You’ve used your training, your birth blood, both day and night. I’ve seen it, Damian. I’ve seen the self control. Even when it slips, it’s more then most of us can maintain. And all of that, it melts when you’re _Robin_. You’re a nightmare with a mask, kid.” Dick’s fingers loosened, slightly. “The good kind. The kind that only gives nightmares to the bad guy.” Dick sighed. “I’ll talk in circles all night if you let me. But at the end of it all, you’re _Damian_. You’re terrifying and talented. You’re the best of both worlds.” Dick exhaled, leaning in closer, until his forehead rested against Damian’s. “You’re my babybat.”

Damian choked, closing his eyes, as one of Dick’s hands slid up into his hair, jerked him in, their mouths crashing together.

“My little D,” he murmured, into his mouth, echoed with the heavy, wet glide of his lips, the heat spreading across Damian’s face.

“My Dami. _My Damian_ ,” he breathed, as his tongue pressed into Damian’s mouth, had the teen whining around it, trying to clutch at his suit, to pull them closer. The ache in his chest, his ribs, his belly- it subsided, for a moment. But there was something heavy there still, a truth, as he let Dick kiss his mouth until his lips were red, until he was sure they would go numb.

“What if,” Damian started, panting lightly as Dick finally pulled away from his mouth, “What if someday, the balance is gone?”

The question was asked in the words he didn’t speak. What if one day, the Wayne half died, what if he became all he had been born for? What if Damian gave into his desire for blood, and the assassin in him was born again? What if Damian let Robin die, and took a new mantel?

What if he killed, and killed, until his heart was saturated with blood?

Dick squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, before opening them, staring into the teen’s face. The boy he’d watched grow up, had fallen so in love with that it was near-insanity. 

No, not near it- beyond it.

Dick knew the answer. Knew it, in the pit of his gut, the hallows of his bones. He reached up, stroked Damian’s cheek, leaned in and kissed his forehead. “I won’t ever face off against you, Damian,” he whispered, feeling his own ribs beginning to cave in- mirroring the feeling in Damian’s chest.

The teen choked back a sound, clutching tightly at Dick’s suit. Unsure what he had done in his life to be given this man. Unsure what purgatory he must have spent years in, before this lifetime, to be granted even a sliver of the affection Dick offered him. The loyalty.

Dick forced a sad smile, unsure if the day would ever come when he needed to back up his promise, and the following words. Unsure if, when Damian finally shed the Robin act- soon, he knew. He wasn’t a child anymore, those feathers had fallen away. Unsure if, when it happened, that Damian would still be on the same side, or if he would have crossed over.

The outcome wouldn’t matter, Dick’s path would be the same.

“I won’t fight you,” he whispered, again, as if he had to taste the words one more time, test them, test his will to swallow them. They fell over his tongue, down his throat with ease. Like water. And Damian’s stare, gentle, needy, despite the mask, made the rest all that much easier. “I’ll fall with you.”


	43. Mine Today (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "The domestic starters : don't answer it it's probably your boss and you're mine today with jaydick"

“Jay,” Dick mumbled, as the other man shifted, pulling the sheet down to the small of his back and laying along Dick, kissing at the back of his neck. “What…time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jason whispered, nosing at Dick’s hair, breathing against his ear. “You sleep well?”

Dick hummed his response, managing to untangle from the other man long enough to roll onto his side, pulling himself into Jason’s arms and kissed him lazily, mind still foggy with sleep.

“Always do,” Dick whispered into his mouth, “with you.” Jason smiled into the kiss, one hand rubbing the base of Dick’s spine, dragging his tongue along his lover’s lower lip. Dick shivered, yielding, as Jason’s hand dipped lower, grabbed a handful of flesh, kneading Dick’s ass. Dick gasped, tipping his head back so Jason could kiss down to his neck, dragging teeth over his pulse point.

Dick was always so warm, to easy to move in the morning, and Jason loved it. Loved how he melted in his hands, how his eyes stayed closed half the time and everything was simply so free, so natural. How he was like liquid, water.

Jason had Dick arching back, his mouth closed around one pale nipple, tongue rolling along it, when from the nightstand, Dick’s phone start vibrating. A moment later, and sounds followed, a specific ring, one that had Dick twisting, trying to reach for it, even as a moan escaped his lips.

“Don’t,” Jason said, pulling off. “It’s your boss,” Jason said with a roll of his eyes, as Dick managed to hook two fingers over his phone, dragging it to his palm, before curling back up in the bed.

“Bruce isn’t my _boss_ ,” Dick tried to counter, and they both knew how much of a lie it was. He unlocked his phone, lifting it to his ear, “Mornin’.”

Jason huffed, leaning in, pressing his mouth back to Dick’s neck, rolling him onto his back. Dick let him, one hand hooking over his shoulders, between his shoulder blades, as Jason’s hand slid between them, tracing over his abs, over old and new scars.

“Mhm,” Dick said, tipping his head back slightly, giving Jason better access. Were it any other time, Jason knew he would’ve been shoved off at this point- but morning, sleepy Dick was a whole new creature.

Jason smirked into his skin, letting his hand move to Dick’s hip, then down, between his thighs. He thanked the gods Dick never seemed to sleep in any sort of clothing around him.

Dick made a little sound, Jason’s fingers pushing past flesh, to press against his hole. Simple, gentle pressure, no penetration- but god, enough to have Dick pushing his hips up.

Jason could hear Bruce’s voice on the other end of the line, asking him if he was alright, and stifled a laugh in his lover’s neck. He moved his hand back up, wrapping it around Dick’s cock- half hard now, and giving him a slow stroke.

Dick moaned, openly, and Jason pushed himself up, snatching the phone from his hand, before he let his lover embarrass himself further.

“Sorry Bruce,” he said, holding it up and watching the way Dick let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut, as he stroked him. “Dick’s mine today.”

He ended the call before Dick could respond, tossing it down to the bed, quickly following in his own path, heading for Dick’s mouth, and the sweet way he would kiss him. Lazy and needy, sleepy but wanting.


	44. HS AU pt8 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon Asked: "can you write your highscool au where tim gets hurt by some bully beting him up cuz hes gay and jason getting really pissed and protective"

“Faggot!” Tim stumbled back, his back pressed against the rough brick of the school building. In front of him, the other student loomed- far larger. A senior, multiple sports teams- Tim probably knew his name, somewhere.

In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about it.

Behind him, a few of his friends were cheering him on. Rounds of yeah, fag! and fuck him up good! that echoed like music. The worst kind of music.

Tim hadn’t even done anything to this guy. All he could figure was he must have seen the kiss Jason had given him earlier that day, before Tim ran off to gym class-

Okay, probably _a lot_ of people saw it, and heard about it. Jason had quite literally pushed him up against a locker, and Tim had squirmed for a minute, unable to actually care who was watching. That had to be all around the school by now. Not that people hadn’t been speculating about them- not that Jason hadn’t openly kissed him before.

Just, well- never like _that_.

Didn’t take a genius now to realize that something was going on between them.

The kid reached for Tim, grabbed him by his biceps and hoisted him up, digging his shoulder blades back into the wall. “Where’s your little fuckboy now?” he asked, sneering at Tim. “Don’t think he’s comin’, princess.” Tim squirmed, frowning.

“Lemme go,” he breathed, and the guy laughed, right in his face.

“Hear that guys?” he asked, turning around and looking at his friends. “Twinky here wants me to let him go? Think I should?” They jeered, and the guy turned, grinning back at Tim. Tim swallowed, thickly. “Looks like you’re stayin’ with me, fag. So what’s that bastard see in ya, anyway? You do have a chick’s mouth.”

Tim squirmed, lifting his knee up and managing to push it into the guy’s belly. He leaned forward, breath pushed out- but didn’t drop Tim. He growled, jerking the younger boy, and the back of Tim’s head smacked against the wall.

For a moment, he heard nothing but his skull echoing, saw stars, until he registered the guy was cursing him out. “Bloody you up a bit,” he spat, “Tear that pretty mouth, see how your fuckboy likes you then.”

What did he- oh. _Oh_. Tim thrashed, terrified over the implied threat, was sure he’d have bruises on his arms from this hold-

“Hands off my boy.”

The guy turned, and Tim peered over his shoulder, smiling when he saw Jason, who had dropped his bag, was openly cracking his knuckles.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” the guy asked, and Jason smirked.

“I suggest you let him go, before you find out.” Another crack, and Tim could admit, in some corner of his mind that wasn’t terrified, that this was pretty hot. That he was dating a badass.

He could rejoice over that later.

One of the guy’s friends turned on Jason, and with a swift punch to the gut, he was doubled over, Jason looking at the remaining two.

“Wanna try?” he asked, baring his teeth- yup, _definitely hot_ \- and they looked at each other. The guy still holding Tim huffed, turning back to Him, releasing one bicep.

“Don’t think I won’t get you when your fuckboy isn’t around,” he muttered, before pulling his fist back, and slamming it into Tim’s mouth. Tim’s head snapped back, eyes wide as his lip split against his teeth- teeth that rattled in his skull, but thankfully didn’t come lose. Tim gave a surprised sound, followed by a pained whine, as he was dropped, left to crumple on the ground, as the guy turned.

Jason was on him before he even saw him. He threw his body into him, shoving him to the ground, pulling back and connecting his fist with his mouth.

“Fucker!” Jason yelled, and then another punch. The kid grabbed at his jacket, rolling them- but instead of attempting to hit Jason back, pushed himself away and stood up, wiping the blood from his mouth on the back of his hand and rushing off with his friends.

Jason glared at them, ready to follow, but chose instead to turn and hurry over to Tim, crouching down in front of him. Tim had his head leaned forward, and Jason reached out, cupping his cheeks and tilting it back.

There was blood all over his chin. His lip had a wide split, a few spots where it looked like his teeth had dug in.

“Fuck baby,” Jason whispered, “Can you get up?” Tim blinked, tried to smile- his teeth stained red. “We need to get you cleaned up.” He stood back up, reaching down and grasping Tim’s hands, pulling him up too. He took Tim’s bag, throwing it over his shoulder, and gripping his hand, led him inside after grabbing his own.

There was no one in the bathroom, and Jason left their bags on the floor, guiding Tim to the sink. “Rinse your mouth out,” Jason said, leaving him to grab some paper towels. Tim leaned over the sink, his mouth throbbing, turning it on and cupping his hands under it, trying to suck the water into his mouth.

It stung. He winced, some dribbling out, over his already wet chin. He spat, the water red- not even pink, and tried again. Jason had come up behind him, watched this time as it came out pink.

Better, at least.

He placed a hand against Tim’s back, rubbing gently as the boy did it one more time, before turning the water off and straightening. Jason turned him, reaching up to carefully wipe at the blood on his chin.

“What’d he do to you?” Jason whispered, and Tim realized his eyes didn’t look angry- they looked sad.

“Just this.” Tim had to speak slowly, and the moment he was done, Jason was wiping at his lip. Tim winced, but let Jason continue. “Said some nasty stuff.”

“Like what?”

Jason pulled away, glancing at the sink again. Tim took the hint, turning it back on and leaning over, rinsing one more time. The water was still faintly pink. “Called you a,” he paused, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, “fuckboy. Kept calling me a fag.” Tim shrugged a shoulder. “Usual sad attempts at this kind of thing.”

Jason frowned, coming back over and brushing some of Tim’s hair back from his face. 

“You know, that’s twice in one week you’ve saved me,” Tim pointed out. Jason smiled, slightly- and that was what Tim wanted. To see him smile. “You my knight in shining armor or something?”

“I’m not really knight material,” Jason pointed out, wrapping an arm around Tim’s waist and pulling him closer. “Besides, you don’t really look like a princess to me.”

“Should I borrow a friend’s dress?” Jason laughed then, as Tim smiling, despite that it hurt- and the older boy leaned in, kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Like’s get you home Cinderella,” he teased, “before you turn into a pumpkin.”

*

Tim pushed the door to his house open, clutching Jason’s hand tightly. It had dawned on him, on the walk home, that there was no way to hide this from his mother.

Tim closed the door, kicking his shoes off, and her from the kitchen, “Tim? Honey are you home?”

“Yeah mom!” he called, the words hurting. Jason had let go of his hands to lean down, unlace his boots.

“Good. Is Jason with you?”

“Hi Mrs. Drake,” Jason called in response, pushing his boots to the side.

“Hi sweetie! I hope you boys are hungry.” Her footsteps could be heard, moving through the dining room, towards the little entrance way, “I should have dinner finished in no time. Tim your dad has to stay late so-”

She rounded the corner, her words falling off when she saw Tim, broken and swollen lips, who wasn’t looking at her.

“Tim!” She rushed over, grasping his face and forcing him to look up, peering at his mouth. “What happened to you?”

“Just a run in with the school bully,” he said, wincing by the end. Jason watched as Janet tilted Tim’s head, trying to get a better look. She turned his head a bit, and Tim winced again. “Careful, head hit the wall.” It was beginning to pound, and really, he just wanted to lay down for a bit.

“I should take you to a doctor.”

“Really mom. I’m okay. It wasn’t _that_ hard. Besides, Jason put a stop to it, cleaned me up.” He glanced over at his boyfriend, offering a smile, and Janet turned, looking at Jason.

Jason expected her to glare. Expected her to tell him to get the hell out. After all, sure Tim had been targeted before, but Jason was fairly sure it was painfully obvious that this time, it was because of their relationship.

God forbid a boy liked another boy.

Janet released Tim, reaching out to touch Jason’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Did he get you too?”

Jason blinked, stared at her for a moment. “Uh…no. I’m okay.” She nodded.

“Okay. Good. Thank you for saving my baby.” Tim rolled his eyes, a little color coming to his cheeks. She turned back to him. “Why don’t you go finish cleaning up Tim. Lay down. Don’t fall asleep though, okay? I really should take you to a doctor. You might have a concussion.”

“Really mom, _I’m fine_.” She sighed.

“Alright. Go on you two. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” Tim grabbed at Jason’s hand, guiding him towards the stairs. Halfway up it, Jason glanced back.

Janet was watching. And she offered him a sad, little smile.

*

Once Tim had cleaned up again in the bathroom, he closed himself in his room, where he had left Jason, sitting against the wall, on his bed. He walked over, crawling on, forcing his boyfriend’s legs apart so he could settle between them, his back against Jason’s chest. The older boy’s arms wound around him, clutching him tightly. Tim smiled.

“Thanks for earlier,” he whispered, “For cleaning me up. And saving my ass.” Jason said nothing, and Tim reached up, tracing his arm with a few fingers. “You okay?”

“…It was my fault.” Tim furrowed his brow, and Jason’s arms tightened around him. “All of this. It’s because of me.”

“Not really,” Tim said, frowning. He squirmed, but couldn’t move, couldn’t turn to look at Jason.

“But it _is_. It’s because of me. If you weren’t with me-”

“Don’t even-”

“-then he wouldn’t have bothered you.” Tim huffed.

“Please. Jay, that asshat has beaten me up more times then I can count. I just got bloodier then usual this time.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s not like because we’re dating that I suddenly have a neon pink target on my back.”

Jason was quiet for a moment. “But you do have a target now. He’s got an excuse now. And since he can’t beat me up, he’ll just go after you twice as hard.” Jason squeezed him again. “He’s a dick. He’ll take any excuse to beat on someone smaller.”

“You’re technically smaller,” Tim teased, and felt Jason leaning down, kissing his hair, nuzzling into it- gently, so as not to aggravate his headache.

“I could kill him, if I wanted to.” Tim got a cold chill at that, the absolutely intensity, seriousness, of Jason’s voice. The fact that, if he thought about it- well, maybe Jason could. He was tough, tougher then Tim was sure he knew. It was almost scary.

Except he knew Jason would never turn any of that against him.

“You won’t need to,” Tim whispered, “He’ll piss off the wrong person eventually, at the wrong place, wrong time. He’ll get the shit beaten out of him.”

“That person could be me.” He kissed Tim’s hair again. “No one hurts you, Tim. Not when I’m around.”

Tim shifted, tipping his head back, smiling up at Jason. “I know,” he whispered, “I know.” He leaned up, managed to catch his mouth in an awkward kiss. But the contact was enough. “And no one hurts you while I’m around.”

Jason laughed, as Tim settled back, staring across his room, at his book shelf.

“I’m serious,” Tim whispered, placing his hands over Jason’s and squeezing. “I’m here for you too, Jay. Whatever you need.”

Jason leaned back into his hair, closing his eyes and giving Tim one final squeeze. His chest was tight, muscles still tense from earlier, from the fear and rage that Tim was hurt, from the terror that Tim’s mother would blame him, like he blamed himself.

But the way it tightened now was different. He knew Tim wouldn’t stand up alone in a physical fight, but that didn’t seem to matter. Jason still believed him. Still believed, in some strange way, this boy he was so ready to protect, was actually protecting him.


	45. Sick (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon Asked: "It's not on the list of Domestic things but what about, unexpectedly, Damian catches a cold and Dick takes it upon himself to take care of him (even though Alfred would do it better) bonus points if he ends up sick too after Dami is better"
> 
> I ended up making it silly. Oops.

Dick wasn’t sure he’d actually heard it, as he toweled off his hair from his post-patrol shower. The smallest sneeze, something he’d expect from Stephanie, maybe.

Then it came again, and he turned, found Damian walking into the cave from the showers, his cheeks a ruddy red, hair still fairly wet.

“Uh, bless you,” Dick said, telling himself not to laugh, not to laugh. Just because Damian’s sneeze was delicate enough that probably Alfred (the feline version) would sleep through it.

Damian sniffled, and Dick tossed his towel over his shoulder.

“You sick?”

“Nonsense Grayson,” Damian said, tossing his own towel over his head to work on his short hair. He spoke from beneath it. “I don’t get sick.”

Dick bit his tongue, trying not to laugh at both the ridiculousness of that statement, and the fact that Damian looked absolutely _silly_ with his towel over his head, in his sweatpants. Made him seem smaller, younger.

A moment later, and Damian sneezed again. Dick rolled his eyes, reaching out and grabbing Damian’s towel, tugging it off his head. His hair was a damp mess, and the tip of his nose was flushed now, just like his cheeks.

Dick tossed this towel over his shoulder too, before he reached out, pressing his wrist to Damian’s forehead. The teen rolled his eyes, even as Dick shook his head.

“You’ve got a fever, babybat.”

“I took a hot shower.”

“You’re _sick_ , Damian. Just admit it.” The teen huffed, and Dick pulled him closer, put his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get you up to bed. I’m going to remedy this.”

“Grayson-”

“-Dr. Dick is here to make you all better!” Dick tugged him towards the elevator back up to the Manor, and Damian groaned.

*

“ _Grayson_ really, I am _fine_.” Dick had disposed of their towels, was now pulling Damian’s blankets back on his bed, as the teen watched, arms folded over his chest.

“You will be fine,” Dick corrected. “Now, get your cute butt in that bed.” Damian clicked his tongue, but listened, crawling into bed. Dick eyed him for a moment, frowning. “Hold that thought, I’ll be right back.”

“What-” Damian stopped, Dick already out the door, and hung his head, debating if it was worth the energy to escape out the window. He could break into another room, sleep there for the night.

Really, that was all he needed. Some sleep.

Dick returned a minute later, just as Damian was tugging his sweat pants off, tossing them to the floor- far more comfortable in his boxer briefs and tshirt. Dick grinned at him, settling down towards the end of the bed, grabbing one of his legs.

“Grayson _what_ are-” Damian’s words cut off as Dick shoved his foot into something ridiculously soft, and even more ridiculous looking.

“I know you and pants,” Dick teased, “but you have to stay warm! These will help.” Damian stared at the ridiculous thing Dick was pulling up his calf- far up his calf. Black, with little orange bats all over them. Some novelty left over from Halloween.

“Get it off me.”

“Oh hush Damian. When you’re sick, fuzzy socks are a god send.” Despite his words, Damian didn’t fight as Dick put the other one on him. “Plus, they’re comfortable as all hell.”

“ _Off_.”

Dick rolled his eyes, and instead of listening to Damian, stood up and reached over, shoving him gently. Damian fell back into the pillows, and Dick grabbed the blankets, pulling them over him, tucking them under his legs, his hips.

“Grayson do not swaddle me like a _child_.” Dick didn’t respond, continued to tuck Damian in, until he was satisfied that no heat would escape. Then he bounded across the room, flicking the light off, before coming back, tugging his own sweat pants off. He crawled into the bed, curling up around the teen, who tried to squirm- but found he barely could. “You will suffocate me-” Damian cut off, sneezing again, and Dick just nuzzled his shoulder.

“I’m going to keep you warm. All night.” Damian sighed, tipping his head back and staring up at the dark ceiling.

“I hate you.”

“Mhm. Love you too, little D.”

*

When Dick came too, it was to Damian sneezing, the sound ending in a groan, and his own head feeling stuffy, throbbing dully at his temples. He pressed closer into Damian’s heat, the teen was like a furnace and now he seemed warmer then ever- as Damian shifted.

“Grayson,” he whispered, his voice rather hoarse. “Grayson wake up. I believe I’m dying.”

Dick opened his eyes, lifting his head to look down at the flushed teen, before turning, letting his own head flop down into a cool pillow. “Just a cold,” he mumbled, sniffling. “Think I got it too.”

There was a knock at the door, and a moment later it opened, Tim walking in, hair still messy from bed. “Damian come eat like an actual human. I don’t want to deal with you being cranky because you’re hungry.” He paused, glancing at Dick in the bed as well. Tim’s cheeks tinged pink. “Oh. Uh. I didn’t…mean to interrupt…”

“You’re not,” Dick mumbled, rolling over, pulling the blanket up around him and glancing over it at Tim. “Damian’s sick.”

Tim quirked up an eyebrow. “You sound sick too.” Behind Dick, Damian sneezed.

“Dying,” he muttered, “Keep Drake out of my father’s will. Leave everything to Titus.”

Tim rolled his eyes.

“What drama queen is saying,” Dick offered, coughing once, “Is that neither of us feel great. Probably skipping breakfast, babybird.”

“Yeah.” Tim brushed some of his hair back. “I’ll let Alfred know you guys are sick, okay? I’m sure he’ll be up with some meds and tea in no time.”

“You’re the best.”

“-my legacy will be remembered.”

Tim stared at Dick, who only shrugged a shoulder, unable to explain the mumbling teen behind him. He was Damian, after all. Tim just shook his head, before turning and walking out, closing the door behind him.

Dick rolled over then, throwing an arm over Damian and tugging him in. The teen squirmed, his socked feet rubbing along Dick’s calves. “C’mere and cuddle me.”

“Grayson I can’t breathe. You will kill me faster.”

“You’re not going to die.” Dick rubbed his cheek against Damian’s hair affectionately. “Especially once Alfred gets wind that we’re sick. Trust me, you’ll come out better then ever.”

Damian clicked his tongue in annoyance, yet settled against Dick’s chest, closing his eyes. His body had begun to ache, and he wanted nothing more then to go back to sleep. Dick clutched him tighter, rubbed his back when Damian coughed once, twice, his body shaking.

“You had best be right,” the teen muttered, “Or in the next life, I will make you pay.”

Dick chuckled, ignoring the way the vibrations tickled his throat more. “Okay Dami,” he whispered, “Okay.”


	46. Single Dad AU pt4 (BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon Asked: "Finally caught up with your fanfics! You are very talented! Singledad is my favorite. If you're taking prompts you should have them continue with the skyline date and then Damian gets upset that Dick is leaving so Bruce asks Dick if wants to stay the night and Dick says yes and when it comes to sleeping Bruce invites Dick to his room and stuff happens hehe...^.^ Thank you"
> 
> An Anon Asked: "You are awesome! SingleDad is great and is my fave! If you get the time, continue with the skyline date and then afterward have Damian ask Dick if he’s going spend the spend the night. Bruce agrees and asks as well, Dick says yes when it comes down to sleeping arrangements Bruce has him sleep in his room and something more than kiss goodnight occurs ;). Something like this would be great and would be appreciated. <3 Thank you! ^o^"
> 
> I really couldn't deny everyone what they were asking for!

“Do I look stupid?” Dick asked, to a grumpy looking Jason, who was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“You look fine,” he grumbled, taking a sip, grimacing because it was black, but he needed the caffeine. Couldn’t be bothered to open the fridge and grab the cream.

Dick frowned, looking down at his light blue v-neck, his gray shorts. He didn’t think wearing jeans on a boat seemed like a good idea. Jason had huffed, when Dick had come in, shaking him awake, that it _didn’t matter_.

That whatever he wore wouldn’t last the _night_.

Dick had blushed at that, stammered that it _wasn’t like that_. That he would be home that night. He was just going out for the day.

Jason grin had told him Jason highly doubted that.

“If you’re sure.” Dick smoothed his hands over his shirt, nervous little flutterings in his belly. In his mind, Bruce’s mouth was such a vivid memory he could have sworn he’d woken up kissing him. Could have sworn it had happened thirty seconds ago.

But his kid was going to be there. It definitely wasn’t a date or anything. Right?

“You sure you don’t mind dropping me off?” Dick asked, as Jason took a long few swallows of coffee, grimacing.

“Because you’re cute and I love ya,” Jason started, “I don’t mind. Anyone else who gets me up like this, I mind.” He leaned over, ruffling Dick’s hair. “Let me go get some pants.”

Dick rolled his eyes, watched as Jason left his coffee on the counter and headed back to his room. He pulled his phone out, glancing at it, noticed he had a message. He half expected Bruce- either making sure Dick was coming, or telling him never mind.

Dick felt like it was too good to actually happen.

Instead, Barbara’s name was scrawled along his phone. He swallowed thickly, the fluttering in his stomach turning from happy nervous to pure nerves. Was everything alright?

He unlocked his phone, opened her message.

_Wanna get lunch today?_

Dick stared for a moment, felt the nerves subsiding. His mouth quirked up in a little smile. Yeah, he _did_ want to get lunch with her. He wanted to reconnect, to fix things. And he knew their brief conversation in her kitchen didn’t make up for his years of disappearance- or the way things had ended.

Or the years they had behind them.

But not today.

_Can’t today, plans. Rain check?_

Jason was walking back out, Tim trailing behind him, rubbing at his eyes, when Dick got back _Sure thing. Don’t be a stranger._

Jason grabbed his keys from the counter, Tim picking up Jason’s coffee mug and taking a sip, before grimacing. “How are you drinking this?”

“Sheer will power.” Tim frowned.

“I’ll have something better when you get back.” Jason grinned, wrapping an arm around Tim’s shoulders and squeezing, kissing his hair.

“You’re the best babe.” Tim’s cheeks flushed, and Jason let go of him, grabbing Dick by the arm. “C’mon lover boy, your prince awaits!”

Dick managed to wave goodbye to Tim- yeah, maybe the kid was definitely growing on him-grabbing Jason’s spare helmet and following him out the door, towards his bike.

*

Dick couldn’t remember the last time he’d been at the harbor, and it looked… different. Cleaner maybe. Or maybe he’d just never been over on the private half.

Jason parked his bike, and Dick pulled the helmet off, glancing around. There were a few boats anchored, one had a couple getting ready to head out it seemed-

“There,” he whispered, leaning into Jason’s shoulder, pointing. “That’s Bruce.” Jason pulled his helmet off, following Dick’s hand, before he chuckled, leaning back against him.

“Hot dad heaven.”

“Will you _stop_?” Dick shoved him, playfully, before he climbed off the bike, leaving the helmet on the seat. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Oh, you’re not getting out of this without an introduction.” Jason climbed off, leaving his helmet on the bike, and Dick shook his head, wanting to voice a no, a _hell no_ -

But by the way Jason was grinning, looking over Dick’s shoulder, he didn’t think he’d get the chance. He turned, saw Bruce was walking over, smiling at them, and swallowed thickly.

“Behave,” he whispered, before offering a wave, as Bruce closed in. “Hi.”

“Good morning.” Bruce slide his hands into the pockets of his white shorts, glancing at Jason.

“Uh. This is my roommate. Friend. Jason.” Jason grinned.

Bruce pulled one hand from his pockets. “Bruce Wayne.”

“Oh trust me. _I know_.” Jason took his hand, shaking it anyway, be reaching over to slap Dick on the back. “Have a good time Dickie.” Then, with a glance to Bruce, “don’t stay out _too late_.”

There must have been something on Jason’s face, the way his words came out, because Bruce gave him a playful smile, and Dick felt his cheeks heating up. He was relieved when Bruce motioned for him to follow, as Jason climbed back on his bike. They walked across the docks, towards the boat- and Dick noticed Alfred on board as well, bustling about.

“We are ready to ship out, sir,” he said, as Bruce climbed on, holding out a hand to help Dick climbed on. Dick gripped it, tightly- and realized he had never been on a sailboat before.

And he hoped this was actually a good idea.

He was barely on, still gripping Bruce’s hand, trying to get steady, when from across the boat, Damian jumped up from where he sat, running over. He managed to stop, just before he got to Dick, staring up at him as if he second-guessed his obvious choice to nearly jump on the man.

“Hi there little D,” Dick offered, smiling, letting go of Bruce’s hand to crouch down. Damian hesitated a moment, before he threw himself at Dick, little arms clinging to him as he hugged him. Dick laughed, wrapping his own arms around him, hugging him back.

“He’s been asking about you all morning,” Bruce said, smiling casually. Dick laughed, changing an attempt at standing up, the boy in his arms. He swung Damian a little, settling the kid against his hip- and Bruce was reaching out, a hand at the small of his back to keep him steady.

“You miss me kiddo?” Dick asked, and Damian blushed, shaking his head. “No? Really? You get this happy to see everyone.” The boy pouted, blushing, and Dick laughed. “Well, I missed _you_.”

Damian smiled, as Bruce leaned in. He pulled his hand from Dick’s back, fiddling with the straps on Damian’s life jacket. The boy squirmed, and Bruce frowned. “C’mon Damian, I’ve gotta make sure this stays on.”

“Sit still for daddy,” Dick said, shifting Damian’s weight a little so he could hold him easier. “You have to wear that. You know why?” Damian shrugged a shoulder as Bruce adjusted it. “It’s to make sure you float. So when I throw you in the water we don’t lose you!”

Dick spun then, and Damian shrieked in laughter, clutching at him, even as Dick held him tighter, making a point to not scare him. He stopped, back in the position he had been, as Damian pressed his face into Dick’s shoulder, giggling.

And Dick noticed Bruce was smiling at him, this strangely calm, genuine smile, that had the butterflies in his belly flaring up.

*

Dick found, once they were off the dock, sails flared, that it was far easier to just sit and enjoy the ride, then to actually try to move. His balance wasn’t _that good_ on water, it seemed.

He had company, though. Damian happily sat next to him, constantly glancing at him, before looking away, excitedly pointing every time a bird flew by. Dick laughed with him, ruffling his hair, pointing them out too, getting excited claps from the boy.

Bruce was moving around the boat, moving the sails- Alfred helping, here and there, but for the most part happily watching. Dick could admit, more then once, he’d gotten distracted watching the way Bruce moved with such ease, the way he smiled as he tossed his head back under the sun.

“Good to see I’m not too rusty,” he called, “It’s been a while.”

“You’re definitely not,” Dick admitted, and realized he was staring. Openly. He blushed, looking away, missing the way Bruce grinned at him, before waving to Alfred, who took over the sail, keeping it steady as Bruce walked over.

“Glad you think so.” He crouched down, in front of Damian, tussling the boy’s hair. “You having fun?” The boy glanced at Dick, then nodded. “Good.” Bruce turned to Dick, smile still strong on his face. “And you?”

“Yeah,” Dick said, before Bruce was standing up, grabbing his hands and tugging him up to. Dick stumbled up, following Bruce as the man dragged him over to the sails- which Alfred happily gave back over to him. “What-”

“Here,” Bruce said, “it wouldn’t be the full experience if you didn’t try.” He stood behind Dick, grasping his hands and settling them on one of the bars that held the sales up. Dick grasped it, feeling Bruce pressing up against his back, the way he was warm, warmer then the sun that was adding color to Dick’s cheeks, along his cheekbones. “Follow my lead.”

He guided Dick’s hands, silently showing him how to turn the sail. Dick followed, felt Bruce’s breath on his neck, in his hair. Swore he felt the man’s smile.

“Good,” he whispered, and Dick smiled, felt his belly pulling up tight, pangs of joy and excitement and arousal at the way he fit so perfectly back against Bruce. “You’ve got it.”

Bruce pulled back, taking a step away, and Dick held the sail himself, laughing suddenly as the boat didn’t lose momentum. Laughing because he was doing it, because behind him, Bruce was smiling.

Smiling at _him_.

*

They were docked and on solid land by early afternoon. Bruce invited Dick back to the manor, and Dick found there was no way to refuse, happy to sit in the back of the car as Alfred drove- even though Bruce had tried to. Dick waved him off, and Damian was more then happy to have his company- albeit his excitement had mellowed, as he yawned.

Dick could second the sentiment, the heat, the sun, had left him almost drowsy, and he would have loved to have curled up, in that moment.

By the time they were back at the manor, Damian was mostly asleep in his seat. Bruce had to carry him inside, Dick unable to keep from smiling as the mostly asleep boy clutched at his father, seemed happy for the embrace now that he was tired. Alfred excused himself, and Bruce shifted Damian, glancing at Dick.

“Let me just put him down for his nap,” he offered, “I’ll be right back. Right down that hall, you can get comfortable.” Dick nodded, watched Bruce go, before turning, heading away from the stairs, down the hallway where he found a large sitting room. In a normal house, a living room probably, as it did house a TV- but Dick was sure there were other rooms like this.

He settled on the couch, pulling his phone from his pocket, noticed he had a couple texts from Jason. A mix of asking how it was going and crude jokes. Dick rolled his eyes.

_It was great. At his place now._

It was barely thirty seconds before,

_Afternoon sex is a great thing. Keep it in mind._

Dick huffed, rolling his eyes. Funny. Text you when I’m leaving.

He had just shoved his phone back into his pocket when Bruce appeared, walking around the couch and falling down onto it, right next to Dick. He tilted his head back, eyes closed. “I forgot how tiring the sun can be.”

Dick laughed. “Damian has the right idea.” Bruce smiled, lifting his arm and settling it over the back cushion of the couch, cracking his eyes open and glancing at Dick. Dick stared at him, for a moment, unsure what it was-

“It’s an invitation.” Dick glanced from Bruce’s side- the tantalizing space that had been created- to his face. Bruce was smiling, softly, and Dick flushed, didn’t know how to respond, how to take it-

And somehow, in his confusion, he was moving. Sliding along the couch, into the space that had been created for him. Fitting perfectly against Bruce’s side, the older man’s arm coming down, curling around him, squeezing gently. Dick pressed his face into his shoulder, trying to hide his blush, feeling ridiculous- and having no idea what exactly was happening now.

Granted, if he was honest, he hadn’t known what was happening since Bruce had kissed him.

Bruce turned, pressed into Dick’s hair, kissing softly, and Dick closed his eyes, those nerves back in his belly-

And then he was yawning, despite it. Bruce leaned his head back again, closing his eyes. Dick dared to glanced up, through his hair, before shifting a bit, settling closer, more comfortably.

“I’m going to fall asleep,” Dick warned, trying to play this off, “if you don’t move me.”

“That was the goal.” Bruce squeezed his shoulders again, smiling to himself. “Naps on the couch are more fun with company.”

Silently, Dick could agree with that.

*

They slipped into a light state of sleep, the kind that had them both hovering just under the surface of consciousness. It didn’t last long, within the hour Damian had already crawled form his own bed, making his way downstairs and finding the two. He climbed up onto the couch, squirming until Bruce was pulling him onto his lap, drowsy, and Dick, barely awake, was shifting in closer to Bruce, allowing Damian his hand to clutch, as he settled back into his father’s chest, happily closing his eyes to finish his nap.

When they came too fully, Dick had only been able to blush, even as Bruce smiled at him, even as Damian woke up happily, pulling himself from Bruce’s lap to Dick’s, his little socked feet curling happily when Dick hugged him.

Dick expected that to be the end of the day, but somehow the little nap turned into early dinner, turning into being settled on the couch with Bruce as they entertained some kid’s movie for Damian. All Dick knew was there was a lot of animals. That really seemed to be all the kid was interested in.

It was getting dark, before Dick realized it- and suddenly, he realized he had spent the entire day with Bruce. Had fit in casually, like he belonged there.

If the butterflies hadn’t been strong before, they were staging a mutiny now.

It was when Bruce was standing up, gathering a sleepy Damian- for the second time- into his arms, to put him to bed, that Dick realized he should probably go. Figured Bruce needed some time to himself, after all.

“This has been…great,” he said, following Bruce from the room. “But I should probably-”

“Dee isn’t leaving,” Damian said around a yawn, as he squirmed in his father’s arms. Dick could only smile, the three of them stopping at the stairs. “Dee stays.”

“I’m sure your daddy would like some time without me,” Dick countered, reaching out to tussle Damian’s hair. The boy shook his head, pouting, and Bruce glanced at him.

“You can stay,” he offered, “If…if you want to.”

Dick sucked on his lip for a moment. “I probably shouldn’t-”

“Stays,” Damian whined, and Bruce shifted him.

“Damian shhh.”

“Stays!” The toddler squirmed more, and Dick reached out, rubbing his back, calming him down.

“C’mon little D,” he whispered, “I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“I really wouldn’t mind.” Dick turned, glancing at Bruce, as the man looked away for a moment. “If you…stayed. If you want to. I’d…like it.”

Dick felt his cheeks heating up for the countless time that day, knew he should probably say no- go home, think this through. Figure out what was happening, what he wanted to happen-

But he was nodding, whispering, “alright,” and Damian was smiling then, resting against his father’s shoulder. He followed Bruce upstairs, to the boy’s room, watched Bruce gently lay him down, tuck him in. Damian grabbed at his large stuffed bat, snuggling into it happily, as Bruce leaned down, kissing his hair.

Dick waited in the doorway, moving aside as Bruce walked out, closing the door. The older man sighed the moment it was closed, and Dick reached out, brushing his hand over his shoulder. “Do you really want me to stay?”

Bruce reached up, grasping Dick’s hand on his shoulder, keeping it there but squeezing it. A moment later, and he turned, pulling it from his shoulder and tugging Dick in. Dick fell into him, Bruce’s mouth covering his, kissing him softly. Dick’s other hand reached out, gripped at Bruce’s polo shirt, while Bruce’s found his hair, sinking in. Dick was kissing him back, realized Bruce was whispering, between slides of his lips.

“I.” Kiss. “Really.” Kiss. “Do.” Kiss. The softness began to fall away, and suddenly Dick was pulling himself closer, making a soft sound at the back of his throat, and Bruce was tipping his head back, tongue swiping along his lower lip.

Dick pulled away, staring with wide eyes, color high on his cheeks. “Maybe…we shouldn’t…here…”

Dick didn’t know where the here came from. It was meant to be a simple maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe he should stop, take a deep breath, think-

But Bruce was pulling him down the hall, and Dick wasn’t stopping him. Wasn’t stopping him when Bruce pulled him into his bedroom, pressed him up against the closed door. Wasn’t stopping the way he kissed him again, this time anything but softly, body covering Dick’s, pressing right up against him, one of Bruce’s arms resting on the door, the other grabbing Dick’s hip, keeping him close.

Dick mewled, clutched at Bruce, kissed him back as his mind went blank, blank except for the sweet way his nerves came alive, the way he shivered as Bruce’s tongue pinned his own, as that hand on his hip squeezed.

And then that hand was skimming along the waist of his shorts, inching Dick’s shirt up so Bruce could grip the button, popping it open. Dick’s zipper was down before he realized what was actually happening- and then Bruce’s hand was pressing against the outline of his cock, palming him through his underwear. 

Dick pushed towards that hand- realized he was hard, and god, when had that happened? He moaned, Bruce pulling from his mouth, pressing his lips to Dick’s neck, kissing his pulse, then along his throat. Dick gasped, as Bruce squeezed, felt his teeth scrape along the tender skin of his throat.

He hooked two fingers in the waistband of Dick’s underwear, tugging them down, to rest at the base of his cock, which sprang free. Bruce wrapped a hand around it, and Dick gave a choked sound, eyelids fluttering. “Okay?” Bruce asked, pulling back to look at him, and Dick could only nod.

What else could he do?

He tipped his head back, closing his eyes as Bruce stroked him, thumb running along the underside of his cock, rubbing at the nerves at the base of the head. Occasionally, a finger would rub up over the head, smearing pre-cum on the neck down-stroke.

Dick could barely breathe. Bruce was at his throat again, kissing, nipping skin- not leaving marks but making sensitive skin even more tender. 

Dick had a thing for his neck, and couple that with the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time anyone else had touched him, and he could feel his orgasm tugging at the base of his spine, in his belly already. The pressure building at the base of his cock. He cursed, heard Bruce chuckle, right by his ear.

“Close already?”

Dick blushed, embarrassed, before Bruce nipped at his earlobe, humming in approval at the way Dick shuddered.

“ _Good_.”

Dick opened his mouth, gasped, and Bruce moved, from his neck, taking his mouth again. Dick sucked on Bruce’s tongue, trying to hold onto something as his hips rocked with each stroke, as it welled up inside him, until Dick couldn’t handle how utterly good it felt-

Until he was whining into Bruce’s mouth, hips jerking, coming over his knuckles, between his fingers. His knuckles were white, the way they gripped at Bruce’s shirt, and the older man stroked him through it, until Dick fell back from the kiss, limp against the door, mouth kiss swollen, eyes glossy.

Bruce smiled at him, the kind of small curve of the lips that had Dick shivering, had him wanting more, wishing he could be hard again, wanting Bruce to touch him endlessly-

And maybe it was crazy. It probably was. But Dick couldn’t _think_ , could barely breathe. All he knew was that he hadn’t felt good like this in so long, hadn’t _wanted_ to feel good like this.

Bruce pulled Dick’s underwear back up, giving him a little more space to breathe. But before he could do anything else, Dick was reaching for his shoulders, pushing him back a step. Bruce took it, slowly, watching him- questioning. Silently, Dick pushed himself off the door-

Only to fall down to his knees. A gentle thud was the only sign it had happened- the ache the impact left in his knees, Dick didn’t show on his face. He leaned in, grabbing at Bruce’s hips, nosing at his groin, dragging his lips up over the solid shape of his cock, only partially hidden by his clothing. Above him, Bruce let out a ragged breath, staring down at him, as Dick rubbed his cheek against him, closing his eyes for a moment.

Then he was letting go of Bruce’s hips, working his shorts open, and Bruce let out a small breath.

“You… don’t have to,” he started, as Dick got his shorts open, running one hand along the prominent shape of his cock. Dick said nothing, knew he didn’t have to, knew it wasn’t expected fo him-

Just knew, in that very moment, he wanted to. _God, how he wanted to_.

He mouthed his way up Bruce’s clothed cock, before sucking on the head, tasting salt as the fabric grew damp. Bruce shivered, and then Dick was tugging his underwear down too, the head of Bruce’s cock brushing Dick’s lips as it bobbed free. Dick let his tongue lick slowly just under it, heard Bruce’s shaky exhale, before he opened his mouth, sucking the head in over his tongue, one hand moving to steady the base.

Dick felt uncoordinated, in his post-orgasmic state. Felt like he hadn’t done this in a long time- and really, that was the truth. There’d been a guy, back after his break with Barbara, not a relationship but a brief little rebound affair- desperate sex, where Dick had allowed himself to want in such a way it made him sick, now.

Bruce reached down, running his fingers through Dick’s hair, groaning as he took him in a little deeper, his hand stroking the majority of his shaft as he sucked on the head, laving his tongue around it. It didn’t seem to matter, exactly, that Dick felt inexperienced, out of his body- because when he rubbed his tongue along the little bundle of nerves just below the head, Bruce was tugging on his hair, hips jerks, pushing in deeper, only to pull back, have Dick lick that same spot again.

Maybe it was the spontaneity of it, maybe it was the fact that Bruce was worked up from bringing Dick off, but Dick noticed his breaths coming faster, his hips jerking more- and then his fingers tangling, pulling, tugging Dick in to swallow him deeper. Dick did, couldn’t breathe but didn’t care, half of Bruce’s cock fully in his mouth now, and the older man moaned, loudly.

Dick pulled back, Bruce’s fingers loosening, and heard his name, a few times, shivered from it. Bruce’s voice was low, warm, fitting under Dick’s skin, through his pores, making him hot all over again. Dick inhaled through his nose, taking him in again, and Bruce shuddered.

“Dick,” he panted, “I-”

Dick didn’t let him finish. He pushed down again, his free hand grasping as Bruce’s hi, pulling him so he rocked into his mouth. Bruce groaned, tipped his head back as Dick did it again, again, again-

And then he was groaning, hips jerking, cock twitching, and Dick felt the heat in his mouth as he came, swallowed with Bruce’s cock still over his tongue, the back of his tongue stained with a bitter taste.

He pulled back when he was sure Bruce was done, sucking in a deep breath, feeling dizzy. The taste on his tongue wasn’t unfamiliar, unique in its own way, and he licked his lips, glancing up through thick lashes.

Cheeks flushed.

Hair tussled.

Lips swollen.

Bruce reached down for him, pulled Dick up and shoved him back against the door, kissing him again. His hand was back in his hair, as Dick whimpered, gasping for air around Bruce’s mouth.

“You’re gorgeous,” Bruce breathed, and Dick could only kiss him. Kiss him because he couldn’t believe that- but _god_ , did he feel it.

*

Eventually, the kisses slowed, subsided, until Dick was guided to Bruce’s bed. He let Bruce partially strip him, tug his shorts off, discarding his own, his shirt as well, before he tugged Dick down into the blankets. Dick laughed, a breathy sound, falling with him- feeling strangely free, in that moment, as their legs tangled together, as Bruce kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw.

And whatever had happened, Dick could think about it tomorrow. He was sure that rational thought could wait until morning at the very least.

And as he nestled under Bruce’s chin, the older man on his back, stroking Dick’s spine, there wasn’t a fiber in Dick’s being that argued that logic.


	47. Tattoo Artist AU (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [thewonderboys](http://thewonderboys.tumblr.com/) prompted me for “you can’t get tattooed drunk, come back in the morning and if you still want my name on your ass we’ll talk” with JayDick and the ask somehow disappeared because I fail, but it has to happen!! (And also with “who doesn’t want their name over Dick’s ass???” And I agree 100%)

Jason leaned over the counter, arms resting on the glass, staring at the man in front of him. There was no way this was happening.

“Ja-son,” the man said, twirling some of his dark, feathery hair. “I _like_ it.”

“Just tell me what you want and where,” Jason said, trying to gauge just how drunk this guy was. He was thinking too drunk to actually work on- as nice as it would be to have a client that night. He had standards. Maybe the chick with him, maybe she’d want something instead. She didn’t seem too drunk.

The man paused, and the redhead pushed his shoulder gently. “C’mon Dick, you dragged me out of the bar here for this. What do you want?”

“Uh. Hmmmm.” Dick, apparently his name, twirled his hair again, before letting his eyes drop over Jason, examine what bits of him he could see.

Jason knew when he was being checked out- and this guy wasn’t even trying to hide it. Jason sighed, tongue pressing against the back of the rings in the side of his lip. “C’mon sugar, you must’ve had an idea, to drag you and red here in? Something traditional maybe? I can show you my portfolio, or the flash designs we have.”

The woman rolled her eyes, obviously exasperated with her friend. Boyfriend maybe? Jason wasn’t sure. Granted if Dick was openly checking Jason out, he might not be _boyfriend_ for long.

After a moment, Dick smiled- and even though he was drunk, it was the kind that promised to be charming. The kind that had Jason realizing the guy had a pretty face. “I like you,” he slurred, and Jason realized he was definitely too drunk to tattoo. “You’re cool. Ja-son. What about that?”

Then, without hesitating, he tugged his jacket off, tossing it at the woman and turning, pulling the back of his tshirt up, showing off the small of his back, the swell of his ass in his skinny jeans. “Let’s put your name right here!”

Oh, this was definitely not happening.

“Or,” Dick said, “Let’s just put your name on my ass. Ja-son. _Jaaaaaa-son_.”

“Okay Dick,” the woman said, taking his arm, turning him around, “I didn’t realize you were this drunk. I thought you had a plan. Let’s not waste this guy’s time.” She looked at Jason, apologetically, even as Dick shoved at her arm.

“Babs. _Baaabsssss_. C’mon. He’s _cute_. You wouldn’t want his name on your ass?” Dick giggled, the woman blushing, and Jason couldn’t help but smirk.

“You can’t get tattooed drunk,” he finally said, straightening up, Dick blatantly checking out his torso, trying to see the glimpses of the chest tattoo his v-neck gave. “Come back in the morning, and if you still want my name on your ass, we’ll talk.”

Dick grinned at that, even as his friend- girlfriend? Jason really wasn’t sure still- apologized for him again. She tugged him towards the door, and Dick let her, still staring, still smiling.

When he finally turned to follow her out, Jason let himself slip, staring at the man’s ass. He shook his head- but could admit, who in their right mind wouldn’t want their name on that?

He almost hoped he’d come back.


	48. Judge of Character (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [oloane](http://oloane.tumblr.com/) asked: "I crah here *stalking would be a better word* because I love your writting, and I dare to ask for a prompt >///

Tim gave a startled cry, the leash suddenly tugging from his hands, dragging quickly down the hallway of the apartment as his little Pomeranian made a mad dash towards the stairs.

“Lucinda!” he yelled, taking off in a run after her. The last thing he needed was her getting out again. Last time that had happened it had taken half the night to find her, and she had had so much mud and filth in her fur he’d had to take her to the groomer’s early. The bill had been ridiculous.

He heard her little paws heading down the stairs and bounded down them, saw the end of the leash as she got off on the second floor- the one below his- and grabbed the railing, hurling himself around the corner, yelling “Lucinda-”

And stumbling a step as he saw she had stopped, was happily pawing at a guy’s knee, who had crouched down, was petting her. Next to him, a large black dog- a Great Dane possibly? Tim thought so- was watching, intrigued by the little thing.

“Oh, uh. Hi.” Tim straightened up, blushing a little. The guy looked up at him, still petting the dog.

“Is she yours?”

“Yeah. She uh, tugged the leash when I wasn’t expecting it. She likes to get into trouble.” Tim glanced at the leash, but didn’t advance towards it. “I hope she’s not giving you trouble.”

“No.” He grabbed the leash, standing up finally. He had a few inches on Tim, even though Tim was fairly sure he had a few years on this guy. There was something strangely pretty about him, maybe the clash of those blue eyes and olive skin, maybe the strange natural pout he seemed to have. Maybe the set of his cheek bones.

Tim felt his cheeks heating up lightly, prayed it was only a mild flush that might go unnoticed. The guy gave a little click of his tongue, and as he walked towards Tim, Lucinda followed happily, on the opposite side the guy’s own dog following calmly. He reached out, passing the leash to Tim. “Her name is Lucinda?”

“Uh. Yeah.” This time, Tim knew his blush was noticeably. “She’s a little princess. I thought it…sounded like a princess name.” He sighed. “Stupid, I know.”

A shrug, and those blue eyes flickered over Tim, once. “Looking for a partner on her walk? Titus here needs some fresh air.” The Great Dane cocked his head at his name, tongue lolling out happily.

Tim blanched for a moment, before, “S-sure.” The guy gave him a cocky sort of half smile, before moving past him, towards the stairs. Tim made a point to loop the leash around his wrist twice, before shoving the handle over his hand, and following.

“So, uhm, I’m Tim,” Tim offered, as they stepped out of the building. The guy glanced at him, once, before looking back at the street in front of them.

“Damian.”

“You new to the building?”

“Just finished moving in a few days ago.” Tim nodded, as they stopped at the sidewalk, about to turn onto it, when a bike pulled up to the sidewalk, engine cutting off as the rider set one boot down on the pavement. Tim smiled, walking over, Lucinda in tow, as the man took his helmet off, turning at smiling. “Hi Jason.”

“Hey babe,” Jason said, grinning at Tim. The moment he was done speaking, Lucinda broke into a barking fit, her fur frizzing out as she shook with each attempt at a ferocious sound. “And god, hello _princess_.”

“Lucinda _stop_ ,” She growled at Jason, before tugging on the leash, and fearing she might choke herself, Tim let her tug his arm out, taking a stumbling step back as she rushed back to Damian’s feet. She turned, and Tim swore glared at Jason, but seemed otherwise far more content where she was.

Jason quirked up an eyebrow, before taking in Damian, who was watching- and Tim noticed, with that same cocky half smile. “And you are…?”

“Damian,” he offered, “Tim’s new neighbor.” Jason nodded. “She’s not a fan of you, is she?”

“No. Never has been.” Jason rolled his eyes, turning back to Tim. “I’m gonna go before _barkzilla_ here loses her shit completely. I see you’re…busy, anyway.” Tim blushed, and opened his mouth to speak- but Jason was pulling his helmet back on, climbing back on his bike. He sped off, and Tim sighed, turning back towards Damian, taking a step towards him.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, and Tim shrugged a shoulder.

“Sort of? Jason is…complicated.” He glared down at Lucinda. “C’mon princess, you got what you wanted. He’s gone now.” The dog let her tongue hang out, happy now, as they began down the sidewalk. She walked close to Damian, and Tim swore she wasn’t even that happy around him.

“They say animals are a good judge of character.” Tim glanced at Damian, caught those blue eyes glancing over him, before looking back ahead of them as they walked. And- he hadn’t been checking Tim out, right? Tim was sure he had to be imaging things. Definitely.

But- well, that sounded like a jab at Jason.

“Yeah,” Tim mumbled, glancing down at Lucinda, and her little fluffy waddle. “I guess.”

Next to him, Damian glanced at him, a small smile on his lips. “Must say something about you then, if she lives with you and hasn’t mauled you yet.”

Tim smiled then, laughing. “Sometimes she thinks my toes are chew toys.” Damian laughed at that- this strangely rich sound, the kind Tim could fall into, the kind that gave him these weird sort of butterflies in his belly. Butterflies he hadn’t felt in a while.

He reasoned Damian couldn’t be that bad, if his little demon-spawn dog liked him. After all, she didn’t like _anyone_ \- Jason just seemed to be her least favorite anyone.

Tim dared another glance at Damian, saw that little half smile. Yeah, he couldn’t be that bad.


	49. Nice Moves (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "“the building manager neglected to tell me the window washers would be coming by today so excuuuuuuse me for thinking that twenty three floors up was high enough that i could dance around in my office without being seen” that would be perfect for tim/kon, omg tim doing a nerdy dance in his office."

Tim grinned, the music playing loudly from his laptop. His door was shut tight- but it was okay, it was early and aside of some skeleton staff, and he and Bruce, few people had actually migrated into Wayne Enterprises yet from the weekend.

Tim hummed, swaying his hips, jacket left tossed on his desk. His sleeves were rolled up already, and it was anyone’s best guess as to how long he’d keep his tie on. He didn’t have any meetings today, so he didn’t see the need to keep the appearance up in his office, at least.

“I wish I dreamt in the shape of your mouth,” Tim sang, slightly off key, throwing himself fully into a swift hip dilution to the beat, biting at his lip and tossing his head back. He grinned to himself, opening his eyes, ready to stare out at the Gotham city below his large windows-

And instead, met a rather amused gaze. Tim jerked back slightly, startled, as the- _rather cute_ \- window washer, tarted chuckling. Tim couldn’t hear him, but he could see the movement, the smile on his partially open mouth. Tim frowned, cheeks flushing quickly- Bruce hadn’t told him there’d be maintenance done at all that day. He swore it was next week.

He’d have to check the maintenance schedule. And then complain to Bruce about not being kept perfectly in the loop.

The guy stopped laughing, just smiling at Tim now, one of his hands reaching up, hanging onto his harness. He glanced at one of the windows, a flicker of his eyes, and Tim rolled his own, figuring if he opened it, he’d get some sort of sarcastic, teasing remark. Did he really want his day starting with _that_?

Tim huffed, reaching for the window and unlatching it, pushing it open. He leaned on it, felt the breeze from being up so high, saw the city so far below him. Technically, this high up, his windows shouldn’t even be able to open so freely- but well, Tim and Bruce both had a pension for enjoying the sounds of the city, the fresh air. What regulations they broke that no one knew of, wouldn’t hurt.

“Nice moves,” the guy said, grinning at Tim- this time, the grin something charming in a cheesy sort of way. “I’m Kon. What are the odds I can have your number?”

That was the last thing Tim had expected to hear.

He stared at him for a minute, before he started laughing, leaning his forehead against the side of the closed window, the wind tussling his hair. Then, smiling, and thinking _what the hell could go wrong at this point_ \- Tim looked back up and said, “Come inside when you’re done, and you can have my number. And some coffee.”


	50. Tattoo Artist AU pt2 (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "THERE MUST BE ANOTHER PART TO THE TATTOO ARTIST AU PLS"
> 
> Also, tinytiim commented: "im laughing omg. a follow-up would be great. like dick slinks back and jason’s all “so you decided you DO want my name on your ass” and dick just flushes because he came to apologize for that embarrassment not live it out. jason knows this but ofc he has to tease and remind dick of all he said and dick’s just *groooaanss* how embarrassing. but i guess later jason invites him over and he traces his name on dick’s ass with his fingernail or something. ok i’ll stop now haha. great job!"
> 
> I couldn't say no!

Jason was at his station, cabinet open, going over his ink stock when he heard the shop door open. He ignored it, knew Roy was at the counter and could handle it, and set his jade down, deciding he’d need to order a new bottle. He had that elemental stone dragon coming in tomorrow, and the woman had said she wanted it to look like a statue. He’d hoped she’d like the idea of jade- and the tattoo would take most of what was left.

“Yo, Jay.” He glanced back at Roy, who was leaning against the short half wall that blocked his station off from the neighboring one. Jason liked that he was at the back. “Some guy here for you.”

Jason glanced at the clock. No, not his appointment. Still an hour before that. “Who is it?”

“I dunno. Some pretty boy.” Jason closed the cabinet, turning and walking past Roy, out towards the front.

The moment he saw a rather nervous- and embarrassed- dark haired pretty boy waiting for him, he nearly stopped. Same one from the night before. God, what was his name?

Jason sucked on his tongue for a moment. Ah, right. Dick.

“Well look who came back,” Jason teased, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. “So you decided you do want my name on your ass.”

Dick’s cheeks flushed, and he folded his arms, fingers digging into the sleeves of his hoodie. “I’m sorry about last night,” he offered. He looked like he was trying to hide behind his hair, like if it wouldn’t have been obvious, he would’ve had his hood up. It made him seem pretty damn small, and Jason could only offer up a smile.

“It’s cool. We get a lot of drunk people. At least you were _funny_.” He paused for a moment, then, “Your girlfriend tell you to apologize? She probably wasn’t happy about you checking me out.”

Dick blushed more, but looked at Jason, confused. “My girl- oh. _Oh_. You mean Barbara?” He smiled- and yeah, Jason realized it was definitely charming. “She’s not my girlfriend. I mean, technically she’s my ex. But I feel like that just insinuates something bad? And we’re totally friends so-” he cut off, glancing away, “Wow sorry. You don’t need the whole backstory.”

Jason smirked. Something about this guy was absolutely cute. “Nah it’s fine. Just fill my head with images of you and the hot redhead. I can forgive that.” Dick blushed again, and from the back of the shop, Jason heard Roy yell,

“You say hot redhead? Jay, _I’m_ the only hot redhead in your life!”

Jason rolled his eyes, turning and yelling back, “Can it Roy!” When he looked back, Dick was smiling again, stifling a laugh. “Feisty, aren’t they?”

“You have no idea- well. Maybe you do a little.” They smiled at each other. “I uh, I should let you get back to…work. I’m sorry again.”

Jason eyed him another moment, before he grabbed a sharpie off the counter and walked over to Dick. He took his hand, popping the cap off and scrawling something along his palm. “It’s a bar down the street,” Jason said, “Roy and I were gonna grab a drink after we close and clean up. Around nine. You should come.”

Dick stared at him, before Jason leaned closer to his hand, blowing along the writing to let it dry. 

“You really want to get a drink? _With me_?”

Jason grinned. “Yeah. You were pretty funny. And really, I promise. I won’t tattoo my name on your ass.”

*

Dick groaned, right into Jason’s mouth, as the slightly younger man pressed their hips together, tangling one hand in Dick’s hair. Things were a little fuzzy for him- well, if Dick was honest, he was drunk _again_ , but at least he was more in control-

Well. Maybe not.

Jason was pressed up against the sink counter in the background, fingers tugging on Dick’s hair, keeping it so he couldn’t pull away, couldn’t stop kissing him. He tasted like beer, contrasted to the overly fruity taste in Dick’s mouth, but he didn’t dislike it. Found that when Jason licked into his mouth, he was more then happy to suck on his tongue.

Jason’s other hand moved around his hip, down, grabbing Dick’s ass, keeping him close as he rolled his hips into him, once. Dick gave a startled moan, breathy, managed to pull back enough to rest his forehead against Jason’s. “If you’re still interested,” Jason teased, “I could just write my name right here with my nails.”

Dick flushed, couldn’t help the way his hips jerked forward into Jason’s, the way his cheeks flushed. This wasn’t happen. This couldn’t be happening.

No way this guy was actually kissing him, actually had a hand on his ass. Jason was just- well. He was too hot, if Dick was honest. Way too hot. And after last night? Dick couldn’t believe the man had even talked to him as long as he did- let alone invite him out for drinks.

“Someone’s gonna come in,” Jason finally said, giving Dick’s ass another squeeze. “We can either go ‘til we get caught, or we can get smashed and take this back to my place.”

Dick swallowed, not sure what to say- really, even how to speak. He could still feel the press of the rings in Jason’s lips on his mouth, how metal heated up so quickly. How he wondered what it’d feel like in a thousand different places.

“Or both,” Jason whispered, before he tugged Dick in for another kiss. Dick gave in, unable to come up with an answer anyway-

And far too unwilling to push away from the man he had pinned to the counter.


	51. Collar (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "( THER'ES ONLY ONE PERSON TO BLAME AND IT'S YOU ) "Grayson.. " Damian starts slowly, eyes shifting to the item in his hands and up to the man's awfully satisfied face " .. this is not a dog's collar.. " he finishes even slower, eyes fixed on the other's eyes, noticing how they darken and how the smirk grows wider "I know ""
> 
> There was not a force in hell that could stop me from finishing this.

Damian glanced back at the collar, hanging from Dick’s fingers so casually. He swallowed, thickly, at the silent implications of such a thing. “Let me see it,” he finally said, and Dick held it out. With fingers that almost trembled- almost, Damian would never admit that there was a strange shake in his body over this- he plucked it from his fingers, turning it. The collar itself was rather plain, and as Damian turned it, the two metal tags _clinked_ together.

He held one between his fingers, shaped like a heart, reading the inscription. _Babybat_. The other, a simple circle, _Dami_.

That one had something on the back.

He turned it, found _Grayson_ in smaller print, and then the address to Dick’s apartment below it, along with his cell phone number.

His cheeks flushed.

“You’re blushing,” Dick pointed out, closing the gap between them and taking the collar back.

“I am not.”

“ _Right_ , sure. So?” Dick shook the collar slightly. “Can I put it on?” Damian glanced at it again, his heart hammering against his ribs, echoing within his chest. Silently, unable to bring himself to actually speak about it, Damian nodded. With a playful grin, Dick leaned in, tilted Damian’s chin up and pressed it against his neck, reaching around him to fasten it.

When Dick’s hands pulled away, they moved slowly, pausing to let his thumb run over one of the tags. Dick took a step back, and Damian felt his eyes as they inched over him, slowly. Achingly slowly.

“Fuck,” Dick breathed, and Damian’s hands moved up to his neck on impulse, running along the collar, over the tags. It was lose enough that he could breathe, could move it if need be, but if he were to slip a finger between it and his skin it would be snug. “Dami…” Dick trailed off for a moment, before taking a few steps back to the bed, letting it bump the back of his knees before he sat down on it, next to his jacket. He had pulled the collar from one pocket earlier, and Damian eyed the clothing now, for a moment wondering what else he had hidden there.

“Damian,” Dick breathed, voice oddly steady, “Come here.”

He was _not_ being called like an animal. Was he? _Was he_? He should have stayed where he was, should have cursed Dick out- but he was moving, walking towards him, until he was fitted between his thighs, and Dick was running one hand along his side, reaching over to his jacket with the other.

“I’ve got another surprise,” he admitted, and Damian watched as he flipped the jacket over, pulling a thing, coiled leash from the inner pocket. How Dick managed to hide such a thing in there, he had no idea. Dick slipped his hand through the circular end, grasping the clip and holding Damian’s gaze. “Can I?”

Damian gave the smallest of nods, and Dick pulled his other hand from his side, clipping the leash to Damian’s collar, coiling some of the extra length around his wrist. Then, leaning back on one hand, he tugged, hard, sent Damian falling forward, crashing against him, forced to clutch at Dick’s shoulders as their mouths met in an uncoordinated kiss, teeth clacking together for a moment before Damian was at the strange but not unknown, not undesired mercy of Dick’s mouth.

“You lock your door?” Dick asked, before he tugged on Damian’s lower lip with his teeth. The teen groaned.

“O-of course,” he managed out. He had learned, that if he and Dick were going to be in his room without a defined purpose, it was best to lock the door as a precaution. There had been enough incidents of interruption.

“Good,” Dick breathed, giving the collar another tug. “Because we’re going to be busy for a while.”


	52. Insecure (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) said: "I LIKE TO IMAGINE SCENARIOS IN WHICH DICK IS INSECURE AND DAMI IS THERE TO REASSURE HIM, EVEN IF IT'S BY BEING A LITTLE SHIT AND BLUNT AF"
> 
> We probably talk about DickDami too much (but it's so wonderful)
> 
> Also I literally wrote this while in a car on a road trip.

Dick shoved his hands into his pockets, eyeing Damian as the teen talked across the counter, ordering the popcorn dick knew Damian didn’t even want- it was just for him. This whole date was for him.

He glanced away, noticed two girls watching them- or specifically, watching Damian. The kind of look dick knew well, because he’d given it to Damian countless times.  
They were checking him out.

They had to be around Damian’s age. 18 or 19 dick was sure. cute, too.

Dick shifted uncomfortably, just as he heard Damian say, “Grayson. Grayson, where is your head? Take this.” He shoved the popcorn towards him, and Dick took it, looking down at it. Damian quirked up an eyebrow. “Grayson, this date was your idea. You look as miserable as father does before he leaves for those board meetings.”

Which dick knew was the closest he’d get to Damian asking what was wrong.

“Those girls there,” Dick said, jerking his head towards the two, who were talking now, “They were checking you out.”

Damian furrowed his brows. “Do?” Dick said nothing, not looking at him for a moment. Damian hesitated, glancing over at the girls. Young. His age-

His age.

Damian huffed, reaching out and linking his arm in Dick's. “Come here,” he said, and Dick turned his head, confused-

Just in time for Damian to kiss him. it was brief, but Damian made a point to snag Dick’s lip between his teeth, tugging gently.

“If you say one word about your age, I am leaving you here,” Damian whispered. “Now come. maybe…maybe you can kiss me again before the movie starts.”

Dick followed Damian, lips tingling. Damian didn’t usually make a show of affection in public. If anything, Dick assumed in public it was impossible to tell there was anything between them.

He smiled to himself, the strange sinking feeling in his belly easing. He hurried his strides, passing Damian now, eager to get into the theater.

Mostly, he wanted to kiss his boyfriend again.


	53. The Corey Verse pt1 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon Asked: "OMG COUKD YOU DO JAYTIM WITH JASON ADOPTED A THREE YEAR OLD BOY WHO'S MOTHER DIED OF OD AND TIM I LIKE HAT IS MY LIFE BUT ALSO LOOK HOW CUTE THIS BABY IS WITH JASON AND HES UCH A CARRING AND GOOD DAD? PLEASE?"

Tim exhaled, leaning over his laptop, frantically typing an e-mail. In his ear, a conference call was going on, between he, a few of the Wayne Enterprises lawyers, and a new over seas business partner.

A call Bruce was supposed to be a part of.

But of course, he wasn’t there. Decided his time would be better spent taking Damian across the city, to appear at some charity event. And yes, Tim knew public appearances were important, and that the kid was going to have to get the hang of that if he was ever going to help run this company- _help_ , because half of it was Tim’s. _Half_. It didn’t matter what Damian did, Tim was Bruce’s son as well- maybe not blood, but by law- and he had made sure that just because Damian held a birth right to it, that Tim wouldn’t be forgotten.

Tim appreciated.

But in that moment, he was ready to pull his hair out.

He’d already shed his tie, rolled the sleeves of his button down up. His sweater vest felt too heavy, but he didn’t want to shed it- wanted to keep some appearance of formality. And he preferred sweaters to suits, if he was honest.

Except maybe his night time suit.

Tim heard his name, a questioned _Mr. Drake?_ He rather appreciated that he was being referred to as that, and not Mr. Wayne. Leave that to Bruce, to Damian.

“Yes,” Tim said, turning from his laptop to his tablet, where he had the files on the latest business venture open. “I’m listening. I’m still not sure proceeding with this deal is the safest choice for Wayne Enterprise. Unless we can be convinced otherwise, I will be pulling my support.” And if his support went, that almost always meant so did Bruce’s.

If there was one thing Tim was good at, it was running this damn company. And Bruce knew it.

They began talking again, and he turned to his phone- his desk was littered with technology, and there was a text from Jason.

 _Be home for dinner tonight?_ Tim sighed, quietly enough that his Bluetooth didn’t pick it up.

 _Bruce and Damian aren’t in the office. I’ve got a lot to handle. It’ll be late._ Tim knew there was no way he’d be home for any reasonable dinner. He’d be lucky if he put anything in his body that day aside of a lot of coffee. Which reminded him-

He got up from his desk, moving to his door and opening it. The secretary turned around, smiling at him. “Yes Mr. Drake?”

He covered the mouth piece of his Bluetooth, smiling back. “Think you might be able to hunt me down some coffee?”

“I can send the intern on a coffee run. The usual?”

“Yes please.” He paused, then, “How late is he here today? I might need these coffee services again. A few times.”

She gave him the sort of smile that said she understood- he was sure she’d seen Bruce go through the same ordeal- and he moved back into his office, picking up on the conversation just as he was being questioned again.

*

When Tim was finally unlocking the door to the penthouse, it was nearing 11. He felt as if he would pass out before he even had the door opened, and once he got inside, barely remembered to turn and relock the door. He took his shoes off, walking down the hallway in socked feet, towards the quiet sound of the television.

He found Jason, under a blanket, watching some horror movie. Tim walked in just in time to see a man’s throat tore out by a zombie. He grimaced, as Jason pushed up from the couch, leaving the blanket behind and walking over to him, wrapping his arms around him.

“Hey babe,” he offered, kissing Tim’s temple, as Tim leaned against him. “That was a long one.”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Jason nodded, and Tim knew that he’d spill to Jason, in the morning maybe. Over breakfast- if he got the chance. Or over the next dinner they actually got to have. But not in that moment. “I just want to go to bed.”

“Did you eat?” Tim frowned. “Tim.”

“I’ve had some coffee,” he admitted. Or, if he was honest, aside of the cup he’d had that morning, and the iced coffee on the way to the office- there’d been two other iced coffees, and one final cup towards the end of the night, which had been terrible but necessary.

“You’re eating something before you go to sleep. C’mon.” Jason took his hand, clicking the television off and guiding him from their living room towards the kitchen. Tim pulled himself up on a stool at the bar, watching as Jason opened the fridge, pulling a bowl out and peeling plastic wrap off the top. “I figured you didn’t eat,” he said, grabbing a bottle of dressing, squirting a little on top, “So I made you a salad when we had dinner.”

Tim rested his cheek on his hand, smiling as Jason got a fork and brought the bowl over, setting it in front of him. Tim glanced at it, the different colors of lettuce, spinach, tomatoes- there was even chicken.

Sometimes, he forgot that Jason could actually cook.

And god, was it a blessing.

“You’re a sweetheart,” Tim admitted, stuffing a forkful into his mouth. Jason chuckled, leaning in and kissing his hair. “He got to bed on time?”

“Eh. A little late. We were watching that movie Brave. I might have miscalculated how long it is. And then he was a little anxious. I had to read three bed time stories.” Tim smiled around his fork. “But he knocked out finally.”

“You need a cigarette?” Jason’s mouth cracked into a smile, and he slipped his arm around Tim’s shoulders, squeezing.

“You have no idea.” Tim set his fork down, turning and catching Jason’s mouth in a quick kiss.

“Go on. I’ll still be here.” Jason gave him another squeeze, pulled away, about to head towards the door to grab his jacket, when his movement revealed a small body standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Tim jumped, shocked, but Jason only smiled, settling his hands on his hips.

“Hey kiddo,” he said, “What are you doing out of bed?” The boy said nothing, just stood there in his little bare feet, tugging on the bottom of his pajama top. He was only three, and small to begin with. Jason walked over, stooping down and hoisting him up into his arms. The boy clung to him with tiny hands, settling his head on his shoulder. “You okay Corey? Have a bad dream?”

He nodded, and Jason stroked a big hand over his back. Tim watched, fork toying with his salad. He felt almost a stranger then, an outsider. Jason had been the one to first broach the subject of a child- and Tim…well, he’d been unsure. Hadn’t really thought about kids- couldn’t exactly see him with one.

But there was something rather cute about the idea, and Jason’s face just lit up when he talked about it. Lit up in a way that Tim had never seen before. And before Tim had known it, they were filing paperwork, and the adoption was going through.

Jason wanted to rescue a child, Tim knew. Wanted a child plucked from the scum of Gotham, from a life on the streets, like he’d had. Corey was it. Barely three, mother a drug addict that met her match with one too many pills, a little too many chemicals in her veins. He was small, she’d been an addict during the pregnancy, and Tim knew Corey was lucky he hadn’t come out far worse. But a life like that, it left him pretty withdrawn, quiet.

He seemed the most at ease when Jason had him.

“I’ll take you back to bed,” Jason said, “We’ll read again, okay?” Tim sighed, setting his fork down and standing up.

“I can do it,” he offered, and Jason looked back at him.

“It’s okay babe. You had a long day. Eat and get in bed, I’ve got this.” Tim shook his head, walking over, pressing his hand to the small of Jason’s back, offering a smile to the small boy who clung to Jason like he was his whole world.

It had only been about five weeks of this, so Tim couldn’t blame him for showing favoritism. Besides, Jason was around. Tim wasn’t. He spent days at the office, some nights still away, patrolling the city.

Jason hadn’t touched his helmet since before the adoption. Tim wasn’t sure when he would again. Not that it was a bad thing- there was plenty of support in the family, and Jason had still, even in the end, operated on the outskirts of it.

“Just step outside,” Tim whispered, “I’ve got to be able putting him to bed too.” Jason stared at him for a moment, before he relented, looking back at Corey.

“Hey kiddo, Timmy is gonna put you back to bed, okay?” Tim wasn’t sure if it was strange or not that they referred to each other as Timmy and Jay to the child, but he felt almost strange trying to be dad. Besides, Corey could remember his mother, he was sure. 

They had sessions with a child therapist over that. Every week. Tim had missed the past two.

Corey clung tighter to Jason for a moment, before he relented, and Jason passed him over to Tim. Tim took him, awkwardly for a moment, before Corey settled into his shoulder, as he had for Jason. The older man leaned down, kissed Tim’s temple, then headed towards the door.

Tim was sure that cigarette was way over due. Sure that Jason hadn’t left Corey’s side probably the whole day.

Silently, Tim walked back towards the boy’s room, stepping inside and flipping the light on. He walked over to the bed, settling him down on it and pulling the blanket up, tucking it under his chin. 

“What was your dream about?” he asked, his smile feeling fake. He couldn’t help the awkwardness he felt. He didn’t blame the kid for it- he blamed himself. But this was all so new.

He had no idea how Jason had fallen into it so easily.

Silently, Corey pointed towards his closet, and Tim quirked up an eyebrow. “Did you dream about something in your closet?” The boy nodded. “Okay. How about I check it out?” Tim walked over, opening the door and leaning in. “Hmmm. Looks pretty empty in here.” He pushed a few hanging pieces of clothing aside. “Hello, any monsters home?”

He shrugged a shoulder, turning and smiling at Corey.

“I don’t think there’s anyone home.”

Corey gripped at the blanket, pulling it up to his nose. “Inside,” he said, quietly, and placed his hands on his hips.

“Okay,” he offered, turning again, stepping into the closet, ducking under hangers. “ _Helloooo_ ,” he called again, before poking his head out. “It’s empty dude. Promise.”

This time Corey nodded, and Tim stepped out, closing the door. He walked back over, sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke Corey’s little blond curls. His nose and cheeks were dotted with freckles, and Tim knew Jason had a habit of kissing each one until he had the boy shrieking with laughter.

The agency they had adopted him from said they hadn’t seen the boy laugh the entire time they had him in their custody. The therapist had told them that, when she saw Jason send the boy into a fit of laughter.

Tim had told her, in an awe-struck and almost sad voice, that Jason was magical.

He was.

Tim wasn’t.

“There’s no monsters in here,” Tim pointed out. “You know why?” Corey shook his head. “It’s because monsters are afraid of Jay. They won’t ever come around as long as he’s here. I know. He keeps them away from me too.” Corey tugged the blanket down, the smallest smile on his lips. “And Jay will always be here.”

Corey nodded, and Tim leaned over, kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose. The boy squirmed, and Tim pulled his stuffed elephant over- an obnoxiously bright blue with tiny black polka dots, a gift from Dick- _uncle Dee_ as they referred to him. Corey took it in his arms, and Tim stood up, setting the timer on his nightlight again. 

It stayed lit all night, but spun on a timer, projecting images of stars and planets on the wall. That one was from Stephanie.

“Sweet dreams Corey,” Tim offered, once he reached the door, flicking the light off. He stepped out, closing it softly, before he made his way back to the kitchen, and his forgotten dinner.

*

Tim’s alarm went off at 6:30 the following morning, and he pressed his face into Jason’s chest, trying to ignore it. The larger man wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in closer.

“Call Bruce,” he mumbled, “Tell him you’re sick.”

“He’ll know I’m lying.”

“Tell him you’re dying.”

“He won’t believe me.”

Jason huffed. “Tell him I’m dying.” Tim chuckled, sleepy, before rolling away from him, reaching for his phone to shut it off. Jason reached out, stroked his warm hand along Tim’s bare spine. “He can’t expect you to spend the whole damn day in that office and the whole damn night with him. Not now.”

Tim sighed. He had patrol that night. Which meant he wouldn’t even be home until the following morning. He might snag a few hours of sleep, before he’d be back at the office.

“No rest for the wicked,” he offered, rolling onto his back. Jason leaned onto him, an arm going over his waist, as he pressed his face into Tim’s neck.

“I’m the wicked one,” he mumbled in correction, kissing at Tim’s pulse. He rolled his eyes, just as the bedroom door pushed open, softly. Tim sat up, followed by Jason, both looking at Corey, who stood there, silently. “Mornin’ Corey,” Jason offered, as Tim reached for his phone, moving to open his email. “C’mere kiddo.”

The boy rushed over, climbing up onto the bed and right between the two. Jason tossed the blanket over him, falling back and collecting to boy into his chest.

“Timmy has to go to work,” Jason said, yawning, “and I’m still sleepy. Will you keep me company?” The boy nodded, mimicking Jason’s yawn, and the man grinned, kissing his curls. “Good. I’d get lonely without you.”

Tim was out of bed at this point, heading for the shower.

*

“No, no, don’t cancel the meeting,” he said, raking a hand back through his hair and staring at the messy schedule on Bruce’s tablet. “We need that one. Do you realize how large the deal is?”

“I think I would know, Tim.”

“Well, _I’m_ the one that set it up. Don’t cancel it.”

“You have to meet with the press this afternoon when you have it scheduled..”

“You can do that.”

“Damian and I-”

“Oh for the love of god Bruce!” Tim threw his hands up. “You’ve done nothing but throw everything at me for _weeks_ now, because you’re too damn busy showing Damian around. He’s not a kid. He’s not ten. I think he can handle some of this.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need some help, Bruce. I can’t run this company _alone_ , not with both of us scheduling things as if we’ll both be here. I can’t live in this damn office.”

Bruce frowned, folding his arms. Exasperated, Tim’s shoulders slumped, just as there was a knock on Bruce’s office door. A moment later his secretary popped his head in, looking at the two of them.

“Sorry Mr. Wayne, there’s someone here for Mr. Drake.” He stepped aside, and the door fully opened, Jason walking in as if it was _his_ office, and not Bruce’s.

In one hand, he had a plastic bag. In his other arm, he had Corey, who was looking around with alert green eyes.

“Hey there B,” he said with a grin, “Stealing my man?” Bruce said nothing, and Jason walked over to Tim, setting the bag on Bruce’s desk and leaning in, kissing his temple. Somehow, he kept Corey perfectly balanced. “We thought someone might need some lunch.”

“Thanks, but I won’t have time,” Tim sighed. Jason quirked up an eyebrow.

“No time? Corey, can you tell Timmy what I told you about how important lunch is?”

“Won’t grow big without it,” he said, and Jason grinned.

“That’s my boy.” He gave him a little squeeze. “Can you tell that to uncle B over there? I think he needs to be reminded.”

Jason had wanted Corey to refer to Bruce as _grandpa_. Tim had stopped that before it had even started- as funny as it would be, he knew Bruce would kill them both over it. Besides, Bruce wasn’t _that_ old yet. Even if Jason liked to make him out to be.

“Timmy eats lunch,” Corey said, looking right at Bruce, and then, a moment later, waving at him in a late greeting. Bruce’s face softened, and he gave a small wave back.

“Gotta listen to him,” Jason pointed out, “He’s the boss and he knows it.” Tim sighed, but Bruce smiled over it, the slightest curve of his lips.

“Go eat,” he said, looking at Tim, “I’ll take the press conference. You take the meeting. I’ll leave the paperwork to Damian when he gets back. It’ll be good for him, to do it without me hovering.”

Tim gawked for a moment. Bruce wasn’t…wasn’t going with all of his suggestions. No way.

He grabbed the bag, quickly ushering Jason out of the office before Bruce changed his mind, thinking maybe he should bring Corey with him to work every day.

“I got you Thai,” Jason said as they walked back towards his office, “Make sure you eat later tonight too, okay? I mean it.”

“Sure thing _dad_ ,” Tim teased, as he opened the door to his office and they stepped in. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Corey, tell Timmy to listen to me.”

“Listen to Jay,” he said, sticking his little chin out. Tim chuckled, shaking his head and reaching out, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Are you two going to have a fun afternoon?” Tim asked, opening the bag and pulling a container out. He hadn’t gotten to breakfast- only coffee- and this was the first real thing he was putting in his body. It was well over due.

“Oh yeah. Apparently, we’re watching Brave again later.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Somebody really took a liking to it.”

“I heard it was cute.”

“I’ll tell you how cute after I’ve sat through it for a week straight.” Corey squirmed, and Jason bent down, setting him down. He walked around the desk, to where Tim sat, tugging on his pants. Tim glanced down at him, confused for a minute, and Jason huffed. “Pick him up.”

Tim furrowed his brows- couldn’t fathom why Corey would want Jason to put him down just to come over to him- but leaned forward, lifting him up easily and settling him in his lap. The boy knocked his shoes together happily.

“Timmy watches too,” he said, with a nod.

“Timmy can’t,” Tim said, “I have to work with uncle B and uncle Dami tonight. I’m going to be out _really_ late.” Corey frowned, and Tim wrapped an arm around him, hugging him. Felt almost strange doing it- was still shocked that he had chosen to come sit with Tim when he’d been comfortable in Jason’s arms.

“Okay,” Corey mumbled, and Tim leaned down, kissed his curls.

“We’ll all watch it as soon as we can,” Tim promised, “okay? As soon as I’m not working late. That sound good?” Corey was quiet, before he reached up, gripping at the cuffs of Tim’s shirt.

“Okay.” Tim glanced at Jason, who shrugged a shoulder, mouthed he misses you, and Tim couldn’t exactly believe him.

Not with how attached to Jason Corey was.

Not with how awkward Tim felt around the kid.

Not when he was sure he was doing everything wrong.

“But I’m sure you’ll have fun with Jay,” he said, “you don’t even need me home.”

Corey squirmed. “Will you check my closet, when you come home?” Tim quirked up an eyebrow. “For monsters?”

“Jay keeps all the monsters away. Remember, I told you last night?” Corey nodded, twisting his little hands as he gripped onto Tim’s arm.

“Timmy keeps them away too,” he whispered, tipping his head back to look up at Tim. “They don’t like you.”

Tim glanced at Jason, then back at the boy. Corey smiled, wiggling his little feet.

“But I like you,” he finally said, and Tim felt his chest caving in, suddenly. He wrapped both arms around the boy, hugging him back against his chest and leaning down, pressing his face into his curls. Corey hugged at his arm, and Tim was so sure his heart was falling through his ribs, down into his belly. He didn’t hear Jason move, only felt his hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

Corey hadn’t expressed much interest in Tim all these weeks.

Tim had been sure he wouldn’t really matter, in the long run.

But maybe he was wrong. The boy _liked him_. He wanted him home. Maybe everything wasn’t the mess Tim felt it was- the hell he faced at the company, the long nights of patrol, the awkwardness at home.

Maybe it was alright.

Maybe a family was possible, after all.


	54. Wait- Married?! (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) said: "But consider dD watching the news and there's the gay marriage announcement and Damian just casually comment that they can get married closer to home now and dick hums in agreement but then "WAIT WHAT""
> 
> ...remember how I said we talk about DickDami _a lot_.

“About time,” Damian says, casually passing the tablet back to Dick, across the table at the Manor. The older man took it, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth as he spun it around to look at the breaking news headline again. “This country’s strange aversion to anything beyond heterosexuality is bothersome.”

“I’d say a lot of people agree,” Dick pointed out, stuffing another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Damian lifted his coffee, taking a sip.

“At least we can get married closer to home now.” Damian took another sip, and Dick hummed in agreement around his spoon, before it nearly fell from his mouth.

“Wha,” he tried to say around it, had to remind himself to swallow- which caused him to nearly choke- before he pulled it from his mouth, dropping it into his bowl. “Wait, _what_?”

“We can get married in Gotham now.” Damian shrugged a shoulder, leaning back into his chair. “It’s far more convenient. You know father will make an ordeal of it. The entire family will.” Dick simply stared, and Damian sipped his coffee again. “The process will be easier if it is in Gotham.”

“ _Married_?” Dick couldn’t form a coherent thought, or words for that matter, and Damian clicked his tongue.

“Was that not the eventual end you saw to this?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or are we on different pages, Grayson?”

Dick reached up, rubbing his jaw, staring at his lover across the table. Well, if he was honest- could he picture himself with Damian like that? _Actually married_? Was that what he wanted to come of all this?

His chest ached a little, and he thought of the way Damian had clung to him that morning, in his bed, nuzzling under his chin. Mostly asleep, even as Dick shifted, could look at him. There was a time, back when Damian was a child, that even walking on the same level of the Manor as him seemed to wake him up. The trust he had built since then- well, it was staggering.

Dick found he was smiling, thinking of holding Damian’s hand while out, maybe at dinner, teasing a little gold band around his finger. Thinking there was something nice about the idea of formalizing whatever they were. He hadn’t thought of it, until this point. Hadn’t thought that Damian would find any sort of interest in it.

There were still plenty of days where Dick wasn’t even sure how to categorize what they even were.

“I…I think I’d like it,” Dick finally said, hand falling away from his mouth. Damian clicked his tongue again, pushing up from the table.

“Then it is to our benefit. Now, eat that…disgusting bowl of sugar. You are incapable of the simplest of thoughts in the morning unless you’ve eaten.” Damian moved to walk out of the room, coffee in hand, before he paused, then turned, walking around the table. He leaned down, gripping Dick’s chin and turning him in for a quick kiss. Then, wordlessly, he left, leaving that faint taste of black coffee against Dick’s lips.

Dick grinned. He knew Damian, and that one little last-moment kiss had been worth more words then he could count. It was the silent statement that he was happy over the events- and Dick’s response.

And, huh, if Dick was honest- yeah, it could definitely be nice to formalize things, someday down the road.


	55. What do you think? (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon Asked: ""WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS OUTFIT?" dickdami with damian crossdressing for a mission pretty please <3"
> 
> I have a weakness...

“Grayson, I need your opinion.” Dick was settled on one of the couches in the manor, on his phone, heard Damian’s voice in the doorway. He was watching a video- a group of dogs all dressed up as various superheroes prancing around happily. Truth be told, this was his third watch through.

Dick was a sucker for anyone dressing anything up like his friends and family. Especially animals.

“Uh-huh,” he said, not looking up. Damian scoffed, placing his hands on his hips.

“Would you look at me, Grayson?” Dick glanced up for a moment, about to look right back at his phone, when he snapped his head up a moment later, the device dropping to his lap.

Dick’s mouth went slack, and he simply stared. 

Damian barely looked like Damian at all. He was wearing a wig, long with the slightest hint of a wave to the locks, matching his natural color. He wore a black dress, three-quarter length sleeves, falling about two inches above his knees. Not overly tight, with a little black cord tied around his waist, bringing out his natural shape. The boots he was wearing had the smallest heel, thick- more like his Robin combat boots then anything else.

Somehow, it worked.

“What,” Dick started, swallowing thickly. Damian smirked, talking a step towards him- and oh god there was a sway to his hips, hips that seemed far more prominent somehow. “What are you,” he started again, losing the words when Damian climbed onto the couch, straddling his thighs. 

“What do you think of this outfit?” He asked, casually, even though his blue eyes had gone a shade dark. Dick swallowed again, wasn’t sure his throat or tongue were working at this point. Damian’s eyes were lined, shadowed- dark, smokey. His lips had a shine to them, a shade pinker then they usually were.

“Uh. It uh. It looks…” Dick trailed off again, glancing down at the deep v-neck of the dress, the collar bone it exposed, hints of perfect copper skin. He could see the edges of a few scars- and one, along Damian’s collar bone. Somehow, it made it better. “Great,” he finally breathed.

Damian grinned. “That is what I thought. Drake seems to think the boots were in poor taste, and Brown finds it _boring_.”

“Why uh,” Dick paused, inhaled, “Why are you…wearing it?”

“Father has a mission for Brown and I, of all teams. Two women were needed, however, so as to draw the right sort of attention.” He leaned back, smoothing down the soft dress along his belly. “Hence, _this_.” Dick nodded. “We thought it best to test a few options out, beforehand. I am not interested in being strangled in any sort of suggestion that Brown had. Drake had suggested heels, however.” His face scrunched up a little. “I believe I have limits…”

Damian paused, shifting a little- and then suddenly, he was smirking. “Grayson, are you-”

“You look _fucking amazing_ ,” Dick breathed, and then he was pulling Damian in, crashing their mouths together. Damian’s mouth had an extra slipperiness to it from the lip gloss, a fruity taste as Dick licked inside, heard Damian whine around his tongue. The teen reached out to grasp at his shoulders, rocked down once against him, could feel Dick’s erection through the man’s jeans. Dick pulled from the kiss with a drag of teeth against Damian’s lip.

One hand found the hem of the dress, slipping under it, running up along Damian’s smooth thigh- _way too smooth_ , and _oh god_ Dick’s mind began to spiral. He choked, and Damian’s smirk only grew.

“You approve?” he whispered, and Dick nodded, before his hand moved up along the swell of Damian’s ass, felt lace under his fingertips. He openly groaned.

“Fuck Dami,” he breathed, “I’m two seconds from bending you over this fucking couch-”

Damian mewled over that, and at the same moment, there was a laugh from the doorway. Damian tensed under Dick’s hold, and Dick looked past him, saw Stephanie and Tim leaning in, watching them.

“Probably don’t,” Stephanie said, “We need to keep that dress in tact if he likes it so damn much. Still think it’s boring Damian.”

Damian flushed, turning around and glaring at them, the color on his cheeks only adding to the image. Stephanie laughed again, covering her mouth, and Tim smiled.

“You look like Talia,” he admitted, “like the lip gloss Dick?” Dick frowned, staring at Tim- and realized he had recognized the taste. Realized he’d probably licked it from Tim’s mouth before, on the occasions Tim too had gone in such a disguise.

Otherwise, Tim simply tasted like his cherry chapstick.

Beyond that, some of it was smeared along his own lips, and he pulled his hand from Damian’s ass, wiping it off on the back. “You two done gawking?” he asked, frowning.

“No way,” Stephanie admitted, even as Tim grabbed her arm.

“Yes,” he corrected, “we’re done. C’mon Damian, we should try a couple more. Just to be safe.”

Damian turned back to Dick, gave him a heated look, then climbed off his lap, smoothing down his dress. He was barely to the doorway, when Tim added,

“Dick, why don’t you come help us judge what he looks best in.”

Dick had never flown off the couch faster in his life.


	56. Single Dad AU pt5 (BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "GDI, I love your single dad AU! Can't wait for the morning after scene... I just adore the interactions between Bruce and Dick in this fic and the little scenes of natural, happy domesticity with them and Damian..."
> 
> An Anon asked: "Single Dad AU the morning after, everyone wakes up ready for a lazy morning round 2, except Damian runs in delighted to see Dick is still there (and it’s silly that he was kissing Daddy but whatev) so let’s go to the zoo to see BATS."
> 
> An Anon asked: "can you do more hot dad au with bruce/dick with dick interacting with tim and jason or tim jay dick and bruce all going on a double date "
> 
> An Anon asked: "SingleDad is just the greatest! +.+ ^.^, is it possible to do something like, Dick wakes up the next to Bruce and they go out on another date and this time Dicks asks if he can stay for weekend and Bruce takes him home so he can pack some things and he has something romantic planned that ends in the bedroom.. Thank you !"
> 
> It was, quite obviously, time for an update.

Dick shifted, pressing closer to the soft heat he found, his cheek against bare flesh. An arm tightened around him, and he dragged his lips along skin, trying to get even closer. He was so warm, warmer then Dick had been in any expanse of memory when he woke up, and he could have drifted right back into sleep, had it not finally settled on him that he wasn’t alone.

He opened his eyes, glanced up- couldn’t really see much, Bruce’s chin, the curve of his neck. Dick pulled back a little, watched as Bruce shifted, turning finally to glance down at him-

And gave him a breath taking sort of smile.

“Good morning,” he offered, and Dick opened his mouth to speak, closed it again. His legs were tangled in with Bruce’s, more skin on skin. He really couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up with anyone- especially not in this sort of state of undress. Underwear, and for Dick his v-neck. Nothing more.

It made what had happened the night prior even more stark in his mind.

“Morning,” Dick finally managed out, the slightest pink tinged on the rise of his cheekbones. Bruce leaned in, pushing up on one shoulder and kissing the heated patch of skin. Then the corner of his mouth.

And then, his lips.

“I hope you slept alright,” he murmured, and Dick managed the smallest of nods. Bruce’s hand had reached out, found Dick’s hip, thumb tracing little circles against the bone. Another kiss to the corner of his mouth, and then Bruce’s lips found his jawline. Dick’s head tipped back without thought, throat exposed, and he exhaled a single, shaky breath as Bruce kissed his neck.

What had he thought, the night before, about taking time to put everything into perspective in the morning? About considering what he wanted from all this- about what he needed.

Dick couldn’t remember, as Bruce’s teeth dragged along his neck. He groaned, heard Bruce chuckle, the hand on his hip moving to his ass, squeezing, causing Dick’s hips to jerk forward-

And then there was the sound of the doorknob turning- taking a moment, as it was hard to reach- and Bruce was pulling off Dick, huffing a sigh as the door eventually pushed open. Dick propped himself up on one arm, saw Damian standing in the doorway, holding his stuffed bat by one of it’s wings. He took one look at Dick and his face burst into a grin, and he hurried towards the bed, climbing up and throwing himself at the man.

“Woah!” Dick said, falling back into the pillows as the little body sprawled on top of him. “Good morning little D.” Bruce raked a hand back through his hair, glancing apologetically at Dick, who just smiled, shrugged a single shoulder.

It was okay. Maybe it was for the better.

“Dee stayed!” Damian said happily, and Dick laughed.

“Do I get a good morning?” Bruce asked, and Damian looked over at him, making a little face, sticking his tiny tongue out at his father, before choosing to bury his face in Dick’s shoulder. Dick laughed, the movement jostling Damian, who squirmed each time. “Take that as a no.”

Dick grasped at Damian’s sides, lifting the boy up, who gasped, flailed his arms before he shrieked in laughter, and Bruce took advantage, grabbing the boy and pulling him into his arms for a hug. Damian squirmed more, clutching at Bruce’s arms, crying out, “daddy!” even as he laughed more, as Dick rolled over and reached behind his little knees, trying to tickle the sensitive spot through his pajama pants. Another shriek of laughter, Damian kicking, Dick grabbing his little ankles and leaning in, pretending to munch on one leg.

“I needed breakfast,” Dick teased, “You came in at just the right time little D!” The boy was breathless now, laughing so hard, and Bruce was chuckling too, grinning down at Dick, who looked up at him-

And couldn’t help smiling. Couldn’t help the strange sort of excited contentment he felt, in his belly.

*

Dick hadn’t planned the stay the night, and as a consequence, had no clothing. Bruce offered to let him borrow something, but Dick didn’t think it would fit right. Were he going home, it wouldn’t have mattered-

But over breakfast, Damian had started talking, far more then Dick would have expected, excited almost gibberish about animals, about how _Dee and Daddy should take him to see animals_ , and suddenly it seemed Dick had plans for the day.

He wasn’t about to complain.

Dick showered at the Manor- without Bruce, even though it had been very tempting to pull the man in with him, to pick up where the morning could have gone- but he told himself this was better. He was rushing in recklessly. He needed to think things through.

Hadn’t he spent the past three years thinking things over?

Still, Dick knew last night had been…spur of the moment. Hasty. And he didn’t regret it- if anything, there was an ache in him to recreate it, to drag it out to a whole night affair- because, he had to be honest-

In Jason’s words, Bruce was one hot dad he’d like to fuck. And Dick could laugh over that, could hear his friend’s voice in his head.

But he could be patient, too. He could take this slow.

Bruce drove them into the city, to stop at Jason’s so Dick could change his clothes. Damian was in his seat, overly excited, kept asking about all the animals they’d see. Kept talking about how he would show Dee his favorite animals.

“The zoo is one of his favorite places,” Bruce admitted, and Dick could only laugh.

Once they reached the apartment, he promised to be fast, booking it inside and up the stairs, unlocking the door. He wasn’t more then a foot inside when he heard Jason yelling, “I said not to stay out late!” from the other room.

“Funny,” he called, closing the door, “Look I’m not staying,” he continued, walking towards the voice, “I just need to change. We’re taking Damian to the zoo.”

He stepped into the cramped living room, saw Jason and Tim were on the couch, at opposite ends, legs stretched, entangled. Jason was holding flashcards in one hand.

“Are you…helping him study?” he asked, and Jason grinned.

“Yeah.” Dick filed that away, to talk to Jason about later. He’d never known him to be interested in much of anything about his partner’s lives. Jason was just far more casual with relationships- Dick didn’t fault him for it, because at least Jason had always been honest and up front about it. “So, taking the little tike to the zoo?”

“Yeah. So I’ll just…go change, and let you two get back to work.” He turned, before Jason could say anything else, hurrying to change. He was back outside in mere minutes, jeans, tshirt, and an old open button down- casual, relaxed, and ready for what felt like a family outing.

And, Dick could admit- he really didn’t feel like an outsider for it.

*

Damian tugged on Dick’s hand, pointing excitedly at the glass. Beyond it, in the large open pen, a lazy lioness yawned. “Kitty!” he exclaimed, happily, and Dick laughed, squeezing his little hand.

“She’s a lion,” he said, “Do you like lions?” Damian nodded- but then again, he had nodded every time Dick had asked if he liked the animal they were looking at. He glanced past her, could see further back, lounging among the rocks, was a male lion. “Dami look, do you see him?” He pointed, and the little boy squirmed, actually hopped a few times, but shook his head. Without hesitation Dick bent down, scooping him up into his arms and pointing towards the back. “Look back there little D. He’s in the rocks.”

Damian leaned forward, pressed his little hands against the glass, and then started squirming with excitement, grinning and making happy little sounds. Dick laughed, sure to keep a firm hold on him, as Damian kept saying _kitty kitty kitty_ over and over again.

Dick was chuckling to himself over it when Bruce came back, raising an eyebrow at his little boy against the glass, feet kicking excitedly. “I showed him the lion,” Dick explained, jerking his head towards the large, lazy cat. Bruce laughed, just in time for Damian to exclaim,

“Daddy did you see the big kitty!”

“Sure did,” Bruce offered, ruffling Damian’s hair.

“He’s fuzzy!” Dick choked on his laugh then, heart swelling over the little boy in his arms. His face already hurt from smiling so much.

“Damian,” Bruce said, still smiling, “Do you want to see the bats?”

“Yes!” Damian nearly screamed, twisting, trying to jump from Dick’s arms. Dick gave a surprised woah! and managed to step away from the glass, getting Damian back down on his own feet as the boy bounced. He went to take off in a run, and Bruce grabbed his hand at the last second, pulling him back.

“Hey hey hey,” he said, “Remember, you have to have someone’s hand.” Damian frowned, but squeezed his father’s hand. Bruce smiled, reaching back and taking Dick’s hand with his other, leading the two of them across the walk way, towards the bat exhibit.

Dick wasn’t sure the last time he’d been to a zoo, but walking through the glass covered tunnel, with nothing but those low red lights that left everything strangely eerie- well, he didn’t remember that, at all. But Damian was ecstatic, pressing up against the glass with his little hands, his nose even pressing into it. Bruce had allowed him free roaming of the tunnel _only_ , but he had to always be in sight.

Dick was fairly sure Damian was only going to move from his spot if he chased a low flying bat.

“This is kind of…creepy,” Dick admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not disagreeing,” Bruce said, “But he loves them. And the exhibit was closed on our last visit. He cried the entire ride home.” Bruce rubbed the back of his neck. “Simultaneously tore at my heart strings and my patience.” Dick laughed. He liked Bruce’s honesty when it came to Damian-

He liked that the man could admit he had a lot to learn, as a parent.

But, if anyone asked Dick, he’d say Bruce was doing a damn good job, so far.

“Thanks for coming with us,” Bruce continued, as Dick leaned back against the small railing. “You have no idea how much happier this has made Damian.”

“I won’t ever really get what the kid sees in me,” Dick admitted, smiling, “But as long as he’s happy.”

Bruce frowned, and suddenly he was closing the gap, reaching up to rub his thumb along Dick’s jaw. “Kids have good judge of character,” Bruce offered, “I’d agree. I like more then your character though.” Dick swallowed thickly, Bruce’s thumb moving over his chin now. “I rather just like all of you.”

Dick lost his breath, knew Bruce was two seconds from kissing him- and well, he could throw the whole take-it-slow think-it-through idea to the wind for a moment. Besides, it was just a kiss.

But then suddenly there was a loud, “daddy!” and Bruce tore away from Dick so fast it was as if he was never there, turning as if Damian was about to be swallowed up into a void. “Look!”

The boy hadn’t turned around, but was excitedly pointing up at a bat that circled above them. Dick sighed, relieved, and watched as Bruce walked over, lifting him up and holding him closer to it, to get a better view. The boy squealed, reaching his hand out- unable to touch the glass above them, but still reaching for the animal.

Bruce smiled at him, before he glanced at Dick, offering a different sort of smile. The kind that was both apologetic for being torn away- and promising something.

Dick swallowed again. He was very, very bad at taking things slow.

*

By the time they left the zoo, it was well past Damian’s nap time. Still, the kid was rather alert, happy in his seat with a silly little hat atop his head. Black, with large, cartoon eyes and tiny bat wings. He’d let out the loudest squeal when he saw it- and really, there hadn’t been a question about Bruce buying it for him.

They were driving across the city, taking Dick back to the apartment. Dick had his head turned, watching the traffic out his window. He was fairly sure he’d take Damian’s nap for him, at this point. Keeping up with a three year old- almost three, he corrected himself- was tough work.

No wonder Bruce looked so damn good.

When Bruce pulled up to the apartment complex, Damian suddenly frowned in the back. Bruce caught a glance in his rear view mirror.

“No tears, Damian,” he said, “Remember, I told you Dick had to go home.” The boy nodded, and Dick tugged his seat belt off as the car engine died, stepping out and opening the back door, climbing in and making a little roaring sound, reaching out and tickling Damian. The boy shrieked, kicked his feet, and Dick grinned.

“I’m that big kitty you saw,” he said, still tickling him, until Damian’s head tossed and the hat fell off his head. He was breathing _Dee_ in between laughter, until Dick finally stopped and wrapped an arm around the boy, hugging him awkwardly around his seat. “Thanks for taking me around the zoo, little D. I hate fun.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “We’ll have to do it again.”

Damian nodded, yawning- _finally_ \- as Dick picked up his hat and put it back on his head. He crawled back out of the car, shutting the door, just as Bruce got out, shutting his own and walking around.

“Thank you, again,” he offered, and Dick just smiled.

“Hey, no need to thank me. I appreciate being included in family time. It’s… it’s pretty nice.” He shrugged a shoulder, even as Bruce smiled and reached up, brushing Dick’s hair back.

“You can come back with us,” he offered, playing with a single lock of feathery hair. “Stay the night again.”

Dick’s breath caught. God, it was tempting. It was so tempting but- but he wasn’t sure he should. Oh, he knew he could, but…he had to think about things.

“Next time,” he said, smiling softly, and Bruce leaned in, kissing him softly. Dick returned the brief kiss, before pulling back, giving him one more smile, and heading back towards the apartment.

*

“You owe me details!” Jason was yelling, from the kitchen. Dick had just gotten his shoes off, and only rolled his eyes, ignoring him entirely and heading for the living room. Tim was still there, sitting cross legged on the couch, flipping through a notebook. Dick sat down next to him.

“Test?”

“Monday,” Tim said, looking up and smiling. “I told Jay is I was staying the weekend he had to deal with me studying.”

“And he…helped?” Tim nodded.

“Of course. Kinda nice, having someone to help keep me focused.” Dick quirked up an eyebrow, just as Jason walked out, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Tim. Jason and he exchanged glances, and Dick knew he really did have to talk to Jason later. About things. He was always a good listener, even if he could be a sarcastic ass.

And he was overly curious as to what the hell Jason was doing with a kid like Tim.

“I think Timmy needs a break later though,” Jason said, “Maybe a movie. Something fun.” Tim smiled, and Jason continued. “Call up your hot dad Dick, get him to come along. We can double.”

Dick blanched for a moment. “I don’t think so. I mean. He really deserves a night in and well…” Dick shrugged a shoulder. Would that be too…mundane for Bruce? He’d taken Dick sailing, and all Dick had was a movie with his best friend and his bestie’s boy…toy…friend…something.

“Bet he’d love it,” Jason said casually, leaning down and nuzzling Tim’s hair. “You hungry babe?” Tim nodded, and Jason kissed his temple. “Take a walk with me Dick. The deli down the street makes killer wraps.”

*

“You gonna clue me in at all to what the hell happened this weekend?” Jason asked, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. 

“Maybe. You gonna tell me what you’re doing with a kid like Tim?” Jason raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never in all our friendship seen you actually date someone, Jason. You had those drawn out affairs, but you weren’t really interested in anyone. But…you’re sweet on Tim. What the hell happened?”

Jason shrugged his shoulder. “You know, when you left, it didn’t just affect Barbara.” Dick glanced over at Jason, who looked away quickly. “Maybe I missed you. Maybe it got old, not having someone to fall back on. Someone around the next morning who’d actually give a shit how I slept, if I wanted breakfast. Someone who’d remember how I liked my coffee. Someone who noticed things.”

“Jay-”

“Tim came along a couple months ago. Just…happened. And he is way too good for me, I know you’re thinking it. He’s got a future, promise. He’s sweet. But he didn’t leave in the morning and I…I forgot to ever ask.” Dick stopped, turning, and Jason was forced to stop as well, staring into his friend’s eyes.

“And now that I’m back?” The real question was silent, but Jason heard it anyway.

“The last thing I’m ever going to do is ask Tim to leave. That kid…means the world to me Dick.” Jason reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. Dick gave him a sad sort of smile.

“Okay. I just…wanted to know.” He reached out, squeezed Jason’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about all of that…me leaving. I missed you too.” Jason shrugged a shoulder, before he reached out, pulled Dick into a hug.

“You did what you had to do,” he whispered, “But don’t do it again, okay? Or I’m looking for a new best friend.”

Dick laughed, giving Jason a squeeze. “Promise.” When they pulled apart, started walking again, Jason started again,

“So. Spill. What happened last night?” Dick thought on it for a moment as they stopped at the corner, waiting to cross. Then, with a sigh- knowing it was Jason, and the man would get the information out of him one way or another-

“I sucked him off.”

The light changed, and Dick started crossing, Jason standing on the corner an extra minute, simply staring, before he shook his head, hurried to catch up.

“You. You did what now?” He was at Dick’s side now, staring at him.

“Exactly what you heard me say.” Jason grinned, a moment later, and threw an arm around Dick’s shoulders.

“Please tell me he returned the favor.”

Dick blushed a little. “He uh…started it. Just…just his hand.” Dick shifted. “But that’s it, okay? We crashed right after, and then Damian came in this morning so…” He trailed off, and Jason chuckled.

“Cock blocked by the kid. The downside to dating a hot dad.”

“We’re not _dating_.” Jason rolled his eyes. “Really. We’ve just…hung out a couple times. His kid likes me. He’s a fun guy to be around. But we’re not a _thing_.”

“Maybe only in practice, but Dickie- you are. You’re smitten.” Dick frowned.

“Yeah well, I’m not rushing into this. Not after…after everything.” Jason squeezed his shoulders.

“Dick, Babs was a long time ago. Pretty sure waiting three damn years to actually date isn’t rushing it. And so what if you haven’t known him that long? It’s worth a shot.” Dick sighed, and Jason shook his head. “Look. Just go with it. If it feels right, then you’re good. When it doesn’t is when you stop.”

“I can’t believe I’m taking relationship advice from _you_ ,” Dick pointed out, as they opened the door to the deli. Jason snorted.

“How times have changed, Dick. How times have changed.”

*

Dick couldn’t believe he was actually staring at the message he had just sent. Couldn’t believe he’d somehow let Jason talk him into it.

_Jason and Tim are going to the movies and want us to come. Interested?_

He looked away from his phone, up at Tim, who was busy on his own phone. Probably had friends his own age, Dick realized. He wondered if he ever saw anyone aside of Jason.

He glanced over at Jason, expected him to be toying with his phone as well- but he was just leaning against the wall, watching Tim. With soft and intrigued eyes. With the faintest of smiles.

Dick had never seen his friend smitten, until now. It was almost weird. But in a good way.

A moment later Dick’s phone was buzzing, and he glanced down, read _Sure. Should I pick you up?_

*

“It’s so childish I’m sorry,” Dick was saying, for probably the seventh time, as he and Bruce walked into the theater. Jason had driven Tim over on his bike, and they were well ahead of them, already ordering popcorn. “Just, this is like a little reward for Jay’s boyfriend Tim. He’s been studying all weekend, and Jason wanted to give him a break.”

Bruce was shaking his head, smiling. “Relax,” he soothed, “I’m just glad to see you again. I wasn’t really ready for our day to end.”

Dick smiled, felt butterflies rising in his belly. Without much thought he took Bruce’s hand, squeezing it once.

*

The movie itself left Tim an utterly excited wreck after, babbling excitedly about his entire childhood being fulfilled. Not that Dick was arguing. They’d all grown up with the Jurassic Park movies, it had been almost like time traveling to be sitting in a theater, watching a new one.

Tim was simply the loudest in his excitement.

“He’s going to be screaming the whole ride home,” Jason said casually to both Dick and Bruce, as Tim kept _talking_. But god, it was cute. “Good thing you can’t hear much on the bike.”

Bruce chuckled, and Dick slapped Jason’s arm playful. Jason grinned, before falling a full step back, linking his arm with Dick’s.

“Hey,” this time, his voice was quieter, “What are the odds that you can give me like, a half hour alone with the kid?” Dick raised an eyebrow. “Look, he’s had his face in a damn book all day, and I just…wanna make sure he’s relaxed for tomorrow. And he gets a little self conscious if he thinks someone can hear.”

Dick’s cheeks flushed, and next to him, Bruce was rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “You mean what I’ve herd is _self conscious Tim_?” Jason grinned.

“Yeah.”

Dick shook his head. “Goddamn Jay. Of course I can disappear for a while. I’ll…go for a walk or something.”

“You could just come home with me,” Bruce offered, casually, and Dick tensed, eyes darting over to him. “The offer always stands.”

“Do it,” Jason said, not-so-quietly, but Dick was shaking his head. No, no he wanted to, but he couldn’t- not yet.

 _Take it slow_ he reminded himself.

“We can at least drive around the city then,” Bruce offered, pulling Dick closer. That, Dick couldn’t argue with.

*

“Damian asked if I was going to see you,” Bruce started, as the car moved fluidly through the evening traffic, “when I was leaving. He wasn’t too thrilled he had to stay home with Alfred.”

Dick chuckled, leaning his elbow out the open window. The night air had a chill to it, but he rather liked it. “He’s the cutest kid, I’ve decided.”

Bruce laughed. “He gets _that_ from his mother.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “I disagree.” Bruce glanced at him, a warm smile- but dark eyes, and Dick felt a little heat pooling in the pit of his belly. He glanced away, back out at the city. “I forgot how great Gotham looked at night.” Bruce snuck a glance at him, before looking back at the road.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “it’s rather pretty.”

Dick had this feeling Bruce wasn’t talking about the city.

His cheeks tinged pink and the heat in his belly intensified, turning to fluttering butterflies.

Carefully, Dick lifted his free hand, glancing through his hair, his lashes- and watched as Bruce took it, fingers tangling together, squeezing gently. Dick leaned his head back, content now to let the city roll by.

*

When they finally made the loop back to the apartment, it had been a good forty minutes- more, Dick was fairly sure. He would have liked to have given Jason and Tim more privacy, but he knew it was getting late. He was sure Bruce had work to do, in the morning.

He also had this strange feeling that Damian would refuse to go to bed until his father was home, just so he could ask about Dick.

“Thanks for coming out,” Dick offered, tugging his seat belt off. “And uh, keeping me company for a bit.”

Bruce nodded. “Anytime.” He glanced at Dick, before his eyes fell to his mouth for the briefest of moments, and Dick nearly shuddered. “The offer still stands,” he whispered, “If you want to come home with me.”

This time, Dick did shiver. There was so much promise there. So many things Dick knew he wanted, on the physical level. And god, what had Jason said- about going with it until things didn’t feel right?

“I’m sure you have plenty of work to do tomorrow,” he said instead, instead of the yes he wanted to scream. He could enjoy the ride, but be rational at the same time. “But maybe…another time.” Bruce nodded again, and Dick leaned over, sliding as far as he could into Bruce’s space, hooking an arm around his shoulders and kissing him. Bruce sank a hand back into his hair, holding Dick close as he kissed him, slow and sweet, the kind that had Dick melting against his chest.

“You can come visit me,” Bruce whispered into his mouth, “Whenever you want. At my office. If you get…lonely.” Another kiss, and he had Dick’s lower lip between his teeth, tugging gently. Dick gave a little groan, fought to keep from leaning back into the steering wheel, for fear of setting the horn off. “You’d definitely brighten my day.”

“I definitely don’t look like I belong wondering around Wayne Enterprises,” Dick teased, before he kissed Bruce’s cheek. “I’ll keep it in mind.” Bruce smiled, stole one final kiss before Dick was pulling away, moving to get out of the car.

Before he closed the door, however, Dick leaned in, giving Bruce one last smile. “Thank you again for…this whole weekend. It’s the best one I’ve had in a long time.”

Bruce’s smile melted him, in that moment, as the older man held his stare. “Funny, I could say the same thing.”

Dick closed the door with that fluttering in his chest, tucking his hands into his pockets and watching Bruce pull away before turning to head upstairs. For a moment, as he began climbing the stairs, he swore he might levitate off of them, fly right up into the apartment with the strength of his excitement.

Just go with it, if things felt good. Go until they didn’t.

Dick thought he might honestly be able to do that.


	57. We Need to Talk (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Dickdami. Fic where Bruce starts to give Damian a talk about the responsibilities of being in a relationship, especially whether he should even be in a relationship with someone ten years his elder. A few words in, he realizes that this is Damian and stops. Then, he applies pressure on Dick because if it's anyone that is going to regret their decision, Bruce has a better chance with someone with a conscious and understands social norm. Bonus: a scene where Damian finds that Bruce talked to Dick"

“Damian,” Bruce started, watching his son as he pulled himself up on the pull-up bar, down in the cave. “We need to talk.”

Damian pulled himself up again, a little grunt, before he let lowered himself to start again. He was partially up again when he said, “So talk.”

Bruce sighed. “Come down here.”

“Why?” Damian completed another and let himself drop, hanging and glancing at his father. “I can communicate just fine while I train.” Bruce frowned, watched as Damian hoisted himself up, sweat along his skin, showing on his tank top. At least he was dressed. The more clothing Damian wore, the less likely Bruce was to accidentally see the bruises he was sporting so often now.

“Look,” Bruce started again, knowing his son wasn’t about to come down willingly. “About you and Dick.”

“What of Grayson and I?” Another pull up.

“We just…we need to talk about it, Damian.” The teen clicked his tongue, before he completed another pull up. He rocked his body once, twice, getting some momentum, before he hurled himself down, flipping and landing on the mats below in a crouch. Bruce raised an eyebrow- rather impressed, honestly- and Damian smirked, standing up.

“Grayson can be an adequate teacher,” Damian pointed out, folding his arms and cocking his head to one side. The movement exposed his neck, and one of the bruises that had been fading the past few days- and below it, a fresh one. Inwardly, Bruce told himself that Damian _only meant_ that Dick had been helping him perfect some more acrobatic moves.

Yeah. Right.

“Look, you and Dick…have you thought through what you’re doing, Damian?” The teen furrowed his brow, before he settled back down onto the mat, stretching so he could continue his workout. “He’s got more then ten years on you.”

“Age is of little relevance,” Damian pointed out.

“Damian. That’s just…it’s a big gap. You’ve got to think about how it will be, down the road from now.” Bruce sighed. “You’ve got to be responsible. With any relationship.”

“You are a poor example for this,” Damian pointed out, stretching out and grabbing the toe of his shoe. “There is nothing to think about with Grayson.”

“There are a lot of things. Like if you both want the same things from this…” Bruce trailed off as Damian turned, stretched over the opposite leg, and sighed. He wasn’t listening. Bruce wasn’t sure why he had thought Damian would.

He was Damian, after all. And Bruce knew he’d hit the jackpot on stubborn genes from both he and Talia.

*

Bruce found Dick outside, running laps around the expanse of land behind the Manor with Stephanie. It was a nice day, the air had the slightest chill that would compliment the heat they both exerted training, and perhaps if he wasn’t so set on needing to have this discussion with _someone_ , Bruce might have joined them.

They saw him as they were looping back, and slowed down to a jog, then a stop close by. “Something up?” Dick asked, taking a moment to stretch as they paused. Stephanie pulled on her ponytail, pulling it down and tossing her hair back up, working the strands that had fallen free over his face back into the mess.

“I need to talk to you.” Dick nodded, glanced back at Stephanie, who shrugged.

“It’s cool. I’ve got another running partner.” She whistled, the sound causing Bruce and Dick to flinch, and from his perch where he lay back on the porch, Titus hopped up, running over to her. She reached down, giving him a good scratch behind his ear, before taking off in a fast jog again, calling out to him. He bounded after her happily.

“Something wrong?” Dick asked, face going very serious as they walked back towards the Manor. He grabbed a towel he’d left on the porch and rubbed it over his face, back into his hair, before dropping it over his shoulders, grabbing his water bottle as well.

Bruce almost wanted to say yes. Because, Dick dating his teenage son was definitely wrong- wasn’t it? It had to be.

“We need to talk about Damian. And you.”

Dick’s face changed, and he nodded, following Bruce inside. He uncapped his water, taking a drink as Bruce stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Did you think it through?” he asked, “When you started this?”

“You make it sound like I could even think.” Dick sighed, capping his water again. “Look Bruce. I didn’t…I never planned for this to happen. You’ve gotta believe that.” Bruce stopped, turning to face Dick. The man cast his eyes down, away. “It just…it just happened. No plans. I never expected- god for so long he was just that little kid under my feet.”

Bruce grimaced- wasn’t sure if that was exactly what he wanted to hear from Dick.

“I mean, I noticed he grew up but…well-” Dick shrugged, “This isn’t what I ever expected to happen.”

“Regardless,” Bruce said, “You’ve gotta think, Dick. You’re the adult here.”

“Damian is legally an adult,” Dick pointed out, “Don’t make it sound like I took your fifteen year old to bed or something.” Bruce frowned. Dick being defensive wasn’t exactly unexpected- but actually hearing it still made him feel strange.

The entire relationship made him feel strange.

“I appreciate that you waited until he’s eighteen,” Bruce said, snide, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you have over ten years on him Dick. Ten years. That’s not something ease to ignore.” Dick stared at Bruce for a moment.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Bruce.”

“That you’ve thought about Damian’s well being. That you’ve considered what he may want, and what you might want- and that they could be entirely different. That you’ve put any thought into this relationship at all.”

Dick narrowed his eyes, staring Bruce down- squaring his shoulders, lifting his chin. As if they were about to tear into each other. “You make it sound like I don’t care, Bruce.”

“Do you?”

Dick’s lip twitched, the beginning of what could have been a snarl. “Thought you knew me better then that.”

“I thought I did too.” This time, Bruce did see the sharps of Dick’s teeth.

“Of course I care, Bruce. That kid is everything to me. He has been, since he first put on that costume. Sure, the dynamic changed- but he’s always been _mine_.” Dick held Bruce’s gaze through it, and Bruce knew that stare- had seen Dick use it before, in the field. Sure, his mask tended to keep it mostly hidden, but close enough and you could see those eyes go to a controlled sort of feral. Dominating. _Powerful_. “I love him, Bruce. And whatever Damian wants out of this, he’s going to get. Even if it’s not what _I_ want- well, I’ll enjoy the ride.”

Bruce stared him down- but Dick didn’t flinch. Not now. And slowly, Bruce relaxed his posture, his mouth turning from a near scowl to a calm line. “He’s going to drag you through hell,” Bruce pointed out, and Dick relaxed as well.

“Can’t be worse then anything I’ve seen before.”

This time, Bruce smiled. “Don’t forget who his parents are. Trust me, he won’t make anything easy.” Dick smiled, and Bruce folded his arms. “Just…take care of him, Dick. He’s my son.”

“That’s all I’ve ever tried to do.”

Bruce nodded. “I…I know. And I _trust_ you, Dick. It’s just strange to me.” He sighed. “At least you listened. He didn’t.”

“You tried to talk to him?” A nod, and then Bruce read Dick’s eyes, and sighed again.

“Just go,” he said, waving his hand, “he’s in the cave training.” Dick grinned, and as he walked past Bruce, the older man called out, “Keep it _clean_ , Dick. I don’t want to come across anything on the damn cameras!”

*

“Should have told me earlier,” Dick said, rolling his shoulders as Damian cracked his neck, “Steph and I were running. Could’ve had a three-way spar.”

“I prefer having just you,” Damian said, lowering himself slightly, waiting. His grin was wicked.

Dick grinned back, not taking his bait, and stayed relaxed. He knew Damian- knew he’d get impatient-

And he did, after a few breaths, rushing for Dick, who moved out of the way, dropping down and kicking Damian’s feet out from under him. The teen went down, grabbing Dick’s ankle at the last second and attempting to toss him. Dick stumbled, lost his balance and went down as well, just as Damian was pushing himself up.

He went to drop down on Dick, who rolled out of the way, pushing himself back up, still grinning. “Still. Tell me next time. Unless you really wanna do this _alone_.”

Damian nearly shivered over the way Dick said it, tried to ignore the fact that Dick could throw his own flirtatious language right back at him. “How did you find out?”

“Bruce told me.” Dick ran for Damian, trying for his waist, but Damian smacked his folded arm into his chest, forcing him to stumble back.

“Father spoke with you?” Dick nodded, and Damian frowned, grabbing for him and hurling them both to the mat. Dick lost his breath, landing on his back, as Damian sprawled out over him. He leaned his chin on his hands, elbows on Dick’s chest, staring down at him. If it were anyone but Damian, it would look innocent.

Dick knew better.

“About what?”

“Us.”

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “-tt- he attempted such a discussion with me as well. It was a waste of time.”

“He just worries about you.” Damian let his arms slide off Dick’s chest, hands going flat on the mat as he pushed himself up slightly, making a point to slide along Dick’s body. The older man exhaled audibly.

“And that worry is trivial and unnecessary when I’m with _you_.”

“He’s worried we want different things.” Damian quirked up an eyebrow at that, as Dick pushed himself up on his elbows.

“Oh?” Damian leaned up, close to Dick’s mouth- the older man could feel him exhale on his lips, as he rolled his hips once, against Dick’s, caused him to push up against him. “And what is it you want, Grayson?”

Dick didn’t even hesitate. “You.”

Damian’s grin was wicked and the most beautiful thing Dick had ever seen. “Correct answer,” he whispered, before he closed the gap and kissed him, needy to a point that his hips rolled against Dick’s again-

And well, Dick was sure he could call in a favor to Barbara and have her clear out the security footage. At this point, _keeping it clean_ was the last thing on his mind.


	58. Just Tipsy (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "Can you PLEASE write some drunk and playful Dami on some superheroes party"
> 
> I _might_ have gotten drunk while at a party and messaged her at like midnight about drunk Damian. You know. What we all talk about when intoxicated, obviously.
> 
> But that's what spurred all this on. Also, I feel like Damian becomes totally occ when drunk on champagne (and that is something I understand).

It felt strange, to Dick, to be around so many fellow heroes not in costume. Then again, Dick thought a suit might constitute as a costume at this point.

But there was good reason. Diana’s birthday was always reason enough for a party- even if she always insisted it not happen. Bruce had, with the help of some of the Justice League, gone to a ridiculous level this year, Dick could admit. Dragging as many heroes as possible into the expensive venue, rented out entirely for their use.

To the media, it simply appeared as if Bruce was having one of his strange private parties. He had made sure to pay for a media blackout of it, Dick knew. Good thing money talked in Gotham.

As it was, he was standing with Wonder Girl- Cassie, he corrected, sipping on champagne. Not exactly to Dick’s taste, but he’d learned to live with it. Go to enough Wayne events, and you find you can work through it. 

Cassie was telling some story about how she and Kon had teamed up recently, taken care of some threat against their city without the help of the rest of the Titans, making a point to throw her arm around the other young man, grinning a pretty grin as her blonde hair fell around her face. Dick glanced past Kon, at Tim, who was rolling his eyes at the exaggerated story, but smiling none-the-less, sipping at his own champagne.

At least he actually enjoyed it. Dick was sure by the end of the night Tim would be utterly _tipsy_ , as the former Robin would put it. Not _drunk_. No. But he’d need Kon’s help to walk, for sure.

Dick was fairly sure Tim planned it that way, just to get his boyfriend’s hands on him. He could laugh over it- it wasn’t like that was something Tim even needed to ask for.

Dick excused himself, making his way across the room, looking for a new story to hear the better half of. There were so many people to greet, so many faces he hadn’t seen in a while, he could have spent the whole night just drifting.

He was stopped from that plan, when Jason’s arm hooked in his, pulling him a step back. “Careful,” Dick said, watching some of his champagne nearly splash out of his glass. Jason rolled his eyes.

“SOS on your boytoy,” he whispered, and Dick furrowed his eyebrows.

“My…what? Jason god, how many times do I have to tell you not to call him that-”

“Okay well, whatever you wanna call your boy, I think you better go get him.”

“Why?”

“He’s,” Jason started, licking his lips, “He might be a little drunk.”

That stopped Dick. “You’re kidding right?” Jason had to be joking. Had to be. No way Damian was drunk. Dick had seen him drink champagne at other events, sure- it was expected, even if he was under the legal drinking age. But he usually kept it to a single glass, simply for show. Like Dick did.

“Not at all. He’s across the room, with Steph. Go get him, and I’ll make sure the old Bat stays distracted enough that he doesn’t notice you sneaking him out.”

“Sneaking him out- Jay, how drunk _is he_?”

“Just go!”Jason shoved him towards the right direction, before he hurried off himself. Dick hurried across the room, glancing around, looking for Damian or Stephanie, listening for their voices-

He saw Stephanie first, caught sight of her purple gown. She was standing next to Supergirl- Kara, who was talking, smiling at the small group.

“Seriously, Cassie is just a dream,” she said with a big smile, and Stephanie gave a little aw. Next to her, Dick found Damian standing, sipping at his champagne glass which was nearly empty. There was a light flush to his cheeks, and Dick knew it wasn’t his first from that.

“It must be so nice to have someone that just makes you feel so good,” Stephanie said, smiling fondly at her friend. Dick was close enough now that he could hear them clearly.

“I have one of those,” Damian suddenly said, smiling in a way that was _so unlike him_. “Grayson is very good at that.” Everyone looked at him, and Dick felt his stomach doing a flip. It wasn’t that he and Damian were some secret- just that they were rarely discussed, and definitely didn’t bring their relationship up in public groups. Stephanie would know enough, being family, but the rest- they would only get what they heard through gossip.

“Hey everyone,” Dick offered, cutting into the group, on Damian’s empty side. The teen looked at him and smiled more, leaning into him, forcing Dick’s arm to go around him.

“Mmm, there you are,” he nearly purred, and Dick looked at Stephanie with nervous eyes, mouthing _how many_? She gave a shrug, raising her eyebrows. She didn’t know. Great. “I was just about to tell everyone how _good_ you make me feel.”

Stephanie covered her mouth, stifling a giggle, and Dick noticed Kara glanced away, smiling to try and hide her own laugh. He didn’t need to look at anyone else. Instead he pulled his arm from around Damian’s waist, moving to grab his hand.

“C’mon,” he said, turning them without even saying goodbye. “Time to go.”

“Go? Why?” Damian lifted his glass to his lips, finishing off the last few sips. “We were talking, Grayson. I thought you would approve.”

“You’re talking too much for once, kid.” He guided him through the groups, caught a glimpse of Bruce as he neared one of the exits to the large room. He grimaced- didn’t need Bruce discovering Damian was drunk. Didn’t need to hear about his boyfriend getting in trouble for the next week.

Jason was standing with Bruce, and glanced over, just in time to see Dick rushing with Damian. Dick gave him a desperate look, and Jason only smiled, turning away from him and reaching out for Bruce, grabbing him by the lapel of his jacket and cutting him off mid sentence, crashing their lips together.

That wasn’t the sort of distraction Dick had been hoping for- but at this point, he’d take it. And have to make a point to thank Jason later. He was sure the other former Robin would get an earful about appropriate public displays of affection for his action.

Dick managed to get Damian out of the room, leading him down a hallway, towards the exit. He was quiet again, following rather easily, and Dick glanced back at the boy who was a step behind.

Damian was staring at him. “Damian?”

“Your ass looks _great_ ,” he breathed, and Dick nearly choked. This was not his Damian, at all.

“You’re a mess,” Dick said, tossing the door open and dragging him out. Somewhere along the line, Dick had lost his own champagne glass. Good, he didn’t need it. “I’m taking you home.”

He moved towards the cars that were all neatly parked, as Damian slid up to his side, clutching at his arm and smirking. “Home? Really?” He leaned up, trying to nuzzle at Dick’s ear as they walked. “ _Good_.”

“You’re going straight to bed,” Dick said, picking out the car Damian had drove in, and guiding him towards the passenger side.

“Even better.”

Dick turned, slipped his hands under Damian’s jacket and into his pants pockets, found his keys and unlocked the door, Damian giving only a little gasp at the quick, sudden contact. Once the door was open Dick guided him in, reaching over him to grasp the seat belt and secure that. Damian leaned his head back, arching his back slightly, pushing his hips up when Dick’s arm ran across his lap, and Dick swallowed, told himself the boy was drunk and he just needed to get him home.

And Dick could totally handle a drunk Damian. Even if he was a little…affectionate.

_Sexually charged, you mean?_

He hurried around the car, getting in and starting it, driving off as quickly as possible. He tried to think how long it’d take to get to the Manor- and knew it would, no matter what, be too long. He glanced next to him, and for the moment, Damian was looking out the window, forehead resting against it.

Maybe he’d just be quiet for the whole drive.

But they hadn’t even gotten out of the city when Dick heard Damian shifting, the click of his seat belt, and suddenly the teen was leaning into his space, a hand delving between his thighs without ceremony, pressing up against his groin. Dick jerked back, letting go of the wheel for a second, before he grabbed it again, turning to look at Damian. “What the hell, Damian, get back in your seat-”

The teen shook his head, rubbing Dick through his pants, as the older man glanced back at the road. “I have to make you feel good,” he said, his words almost sluggish- not quite slurred. As long as Dick lived, he would never let the boy drink again.

“Not now,” Dick said, “Dami, I’m driving. We’ve gotta get you in bed-”

“I like that idea.” Dick flinched, realizing exactly what the boy was thinking- and well, okay, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe he was curious how easy Damian would be to move like this, if he’d flow like liquid under Dick’s hands. If he’d be so relaxed that he was simply a doll for Dick’s fingertips to manipulate-

His cock twitched, and Dick cursed himself for even entertaining the idea. Definitely not. Damian would be getting in bed _alone_. Absolutely.

Probably.

Damian smirked, moving his hand up, popping open the button to Dick’s pants. He had the zipper down before Dick could get out, “Damian-” and then his hand was pressed inside, gripping Dick’s cock through just his underwear now. The man gasped, and Damian leaned in, kissing just under his ear.

“Take me home,” he whispered as he rubbed the very obvious shape of Dick’s shaft. “I want you, Grayson.”

Dick swallowed, thickly. He could handle this. He could tell Damian to stop, he could get them home in one piece. Definitely.

Most likely.

Damian’s fingers slipped just under the waistband of his underwear, teasing the head of his cock, as he licked a hot strip up Dick’s neck. The older man shuddered, groaned when Damian finally freed his cock, wrapping his fist around him and stroking up, once.

“Fuck,” Dick breathed, and Damian giggled. _Giggled_.

“Yeah, I’m hoping for that,” he whispered, nuzzling into Dick’s hair, stroking him again, setting a lazy rhythm. “Will you, _Gray-son_?” Dick choked, gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. They were out of the city now, the roads leading to the Manor dark, with little traffic. Most of it leading into the city.

“Damian, you’ve gotta stop,” Dick breathed, even as he tried to push up into that hand. Damian gave a little whine.

“Stop? But _why_?” He shook his head, bit at Dick’s ear lobe. “Not until you come, Dick.”

Dick choked again. Damian rarely ever called him by his given name- and when it did, it was more often _Richard_.

“Then you can fuck me longer,” he continued, lazy strokes turning to fast, practiced motions. Dick felt his breathing escalating, could barely focus on the road in front of him. “Can you make me come more then once? Please? I wanted to, before we left. But _father_ wouldn’t give me any time alone to find you.”

Dick gasped. This wasn’t his Damian, he told himself. His lover didn’t talk like this- but god it was Damian’s voice and Damian’s hand, and the champagne be damned, Dick _liked_ it.

“I want you to eat me,” Damian breathed, squirming in his seat, hips rocking against the small console between them, “God I _love_ it when you do that.” Dick’s eyes nearly rolled back, Damian’s thumb running over the head of his cock, teasing his slit.

“Fuck Damian,” he breathed, and then- realizing he was losing the battle, “Anything you want baby. _Anything_.”

Losing? Oh, he had _lost_.

Damian mewled happily, trying to suck at Dick’s neck, the action turning more into a sloppy kiss as his fist twisted around the head of Dick’s cock. “All night,” Damian mumbled. “Want you all night. Let them all _hear_.” His fist moved faster, and Dick felt his belly clenching up, heat pooling there, the base of his spine tingling. “Fuck me senseless Dick.”

Dick gave a sudden cry, arms braced as he gripped at the wheel, hips pushing up as he came. His eyes closed for a moment, opening to the car still thankfully moving in a straight line along the road. In his ear, Damian was giggling again- god, it was such a strange sound coming from him. Somehow, it was _filthy_.

Damian leaned back, reaching his hand up and licking at the mess there. Dick glanced at him, groaned loudly, letting go of the steering wheel with one hand to fix his pants as bet as he could, careful to avoid the mess that clung in spots to his shirt now. “Death of me,” he breathed, and Damian grinned, before he lapped at his hand again.

“You taste good.”

Dick groaned. He had no idea how Damian could make this any worse.

“Wanna know how hard I am?”

Well. That was one way.

The teen was grinning, popping two of his own fingers into his mouth and sucking on them. It was obscene and Dick almost stared at him, instead of the road.

“I’ll come before you’re inside me,” Damian admitted, fingers popping out of his mouth as he licked the last of Dick’s cum off his hand. “I hope that’s okay.”

Oh, it was _more then okay_.

Dick hoped everyone would make a whole night of this stupid party, so he and Damian could have the Manor to themselves.

After all, he was fairly sure there was no way they were going to make it to the teen’s room.

And Dick was far too okay with that.


	59. Taking Notice (Dami/Batboys)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Prompt request: Damian is a student at Gotham Academy and when Alfred is on vacation and Bruce is in space on JL business, his brothers are forced to take turns dropping him off as well as picking him up. Please and thank you!"
> 
> So I actually think this is super cute, and since I read GA7 a little while ago (I did it for Dami I will always do it for Dami) I am ready to go! Was it just me or did Damian seem a little older in that? I feel like he was. I think we’re dealing with an early-teen Damian, like 13, or 14. Something like that.
> 
> I kinda took the chance to explore Damian growing into his attractions to people a little. It’s obviously all super tame and kinda cute. He’s a kid after all. Kids get crushes.

Drake:

Rides to the Academy with Tim are quiet, tense. Damian has nothing to say to the former Robin, and Tim- well, he has nothing to say to Damian. He only did this because someone had to, and Alfred deserved his damn vacation. And Jason, he was busy the first day.

And Dick had slept so far past his alarm that Damian would surely have missed his first two classes.

“So…do you like the academy?” Damian clicked his tongue, as if that was a decent answer, and Tim sighed, adjusting his sunglasses as they stopped at a light. The only thing that Damian saw as a plus to riding with Tim was that Tim’s car was decent. Cherry red and flamboyant, Damian could at least admit it fit their father’s lifestyle far better then other options.

It was strange to refer to Tim as his step-brother, when fellow students would ask who the _pretty boy_ was that had dropped him off for class.

Damian would click his tongue in annoyance. Tim was definitely not pretty. Right?

He felt the need to check, when Tim arrived again that afternoon. He climbed into the car and was asked, in that obviously forced way, “How was your day?”

“-tt- a waste. This school is a joke.” Tim sighed, pulling into traffic, and Damian stole a glance at him, the way his profile was cut. Sharp cheekbones, higher then anyone else in the family, soft features. His lips were too pink- but Damian had seen the cherry chapstick Tim used so frequently- and it wasn’t as if the pink was bad.

He stole a few more, before they arrived at the Manor, and Damian watched Tim walk inside, a few steps ahead of him. The thinnest of his brothers too- aside of himself. But he blamed age for that.

His hair didn’t really help the picture.

Alright, maybe Tim _passed_ as a pretty boy. Maybe.

Todd:

Rides with Jason were an adventure, to put it lightly. In the mornings, he’d borrow one of Bruce’s cars- he always went with something black- and he’d blast whatever obnoxious music he felt fit his mood for the day.

He wouldn’t talk much. He asked if Damian had any hot teachers. Damian had simply rolled his eyes, and Jason had shrugged a shoulder, grinning at him. “I figured at your age, you’d notice if you did.”

“There are better things to occupy my time.”

“ _Right_.” Jason’s sarcasm was obnoxious, and Damian was quick to move form the car when they reached the academy. This time, it wasn’t _who is that pretty boy_ , but his classmates asking, _who the hell was the badass_?

Damian had taken a moment to come up with a lie. He couldn’t call Todd his brother. He settled on a family friend. His classmates asked how close of a family friend.

When Jason picked Damian up, it was rarely ever in the car he’d dropped him off in. He came straight from the streets, whatever business he’d been doing, on his bike. He’d wait, helmet under one arm, cigarette mostly gone by the time Damian walked out.The teen knew his classmates were gawking, and he wanted to drop them all to the ground.

It was _Jason_. What was the big deal?

Still, he took a moment to take in Jason’s ruffled hair, the lines he his body cut under his leather jacket. He was taller then the rest of them, he had more bulk then the rest of them- but oddly, not too much. His posture was what did it- something arrogant about the way he held his shoulders, his head. The slight pop to his hip.

Maybe it was his eyes, that looked like they could swallow a world hole.

“Ready to go babybat?” Jason asked, taking a drag on his cigarette. His mouth seemed obscene when he exhaled.

“Yeah,” Damian breathed, glancing back at the group of students staring. Jason followed his gaze, before he chuckled at winked at the crowd, tossing his cigarette away. He tossed Damian a spare helmet, and Damian watched him slip his own on, and climb onto the bike.

Damian climbed on, leaning in for a moment before he put his own helmet on. Jason smelled like cigarettes and cologne and Gotham wind and everything the city had. It was-

Well, it wasn’t _bad_ , that was for sure.

And Damian would definitely not admit that he clung to Jason a little tighter then he needed to, for the whole ride home.

Grayson:

Car rides with Dick were the strangest, if Damian was honest. Because Dick talked, endlessly- but that was to be expected. He talked about the Patrol from the night before- which Damian knew about- he talked about family gossip, Gotham gossip, Justice League gossip.

_Did Damian know that Supergirl might be hooking up with Wonder Girl?_

No, he hadn’t. Nor did he _care_.

Sometimes Dick would pause his chatter to sing off-key with the radio. Not as loud as Jason played it, but still an under lying sound. Damian would often press his forehead to the window and just try to ignore Dick.

Ignoring Dick was impossible.

Still, Dick was the most enthusiastic when it came to wishing Damian goodbye. “Knock ‘em dead, little D!” he exclaimed, once he’d put the car in park.

“Grayson, it is _school_.”

“Er- well, knock those books dead!” Damian rolled his eyes, and Dick leaned over, throwing his arms around the teen. Damian squirmed in the awkward hug, trying to shove him away.

“Grayson, _off_!” Dick mumbled something about how a hug started the day off right, and Damian only squirmed more. “I’m not a child to be coddled!”

“Right, right,” he whispered, before giving him another squeeze and leaning back. “See you later!”

Damian knew the stares he got from his classmates had as much to do with the slight flush to his cheeks as it did with today’s ride. And of course, everyone asked- _who’s the hot guy_?

Damian hadn’t had an answer prepared- but he had spoken without much thought. “He’s my Grayson,” he’d said, before rushing off to class, realizing what he’d said.

And when Dick picked him up that afternoon, his classmates were watching just as much to see their interactions as they were to get a better look at him.

“Quite the fan club,” Dick commented, when Damian got in the car.

“-tt- just drive.” And Dick chuckled, pulling away from the school. 

“So, got a girlfriend yet?” Damian scoffed, folding his arms and slouching in his seat.

“Some of us are too busy to be bothered with trivial relationships,” Damian pointed out, and Dick shrugged a shoulder.

“Okay well. No girlfriend. Boyfriend, then?” Damian flushed, slightly, and looked away.

“I never once commented on my preference.”

“Exactly why I’m giving you both! Why, do you have one?” Dick glanced at him, but Damian was staring out the window, avoiding him completely. “Okay, okay, sorry kid. Listen, you ever need to talk to anyone about that sort of stuff, you can come to me, okay?” Damian was quiet, before,

“Yeah. Alright.”

Dick grinned, and Damian glanced over at him, felt these little butterflies suddenly gnawing in his belly over that smile. That stupid, idiotic, _gorgeous_ smile.

There was definitely no way he was actually feeling this, in that moment. He was sure he was just ill, exhausted, both from school, patrol- the insanity that seemed to be time spent with his _brothers_. When was Alfred returning again? When would his father be back from his League business?

There was definitely no way he had a crush on _Grayson_.


	60. Motives (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [satire-please](http://satire-please.tumblr.com/) asked: "For your summertime prompts, could I get a Timdami/damitim where older!Damian takes advantage of the fact that Tim has to pretend to be weak and injured on crutches for the public? Where Damian does little things like 'supporting' him, lending an arm, getting the door to even possibly carrying him at one point. And maybe Tim's legitimately confused about whether Damian is just patronizing him or...."
> 
> Okay I have been reading Red Robin and seeing Tim dealing with his fake injury has left me so ready for this prompt. Also, I’m feeling some TimDami.

Tim was beginning to hate the brace on his leg. Far more then he expected, when he first faked the injury. It hadn’t been out of choice- but necessity, to help throw a lead on his identity as Red Robin. And really, at first Tim thought it’d be okay, the metal that clasped over his jeans, the crutches he had for support. He could fake it, for a few months, sure. At least it wasn’t a heavy cast, a break. Nerve damage, torn muscle- things that needed physical therapy and support.

Should have been a walk in the park.

But the reason it wasn’t, was sitting across from Tim, eating his lunch silently at the outdoor cafe, as if he was completely unaware of what he was doing.

At first, Damian holding a door open for him was fine. Tim appreciated it, the crutches did get in the way, and he had to play up to the injury. But then suddenly he was constantly telling Tim to take his arm, to lean on him- in front of everyone.

And Tim was sure it wasn’t to help play up his injury for Tim’s benefit- or even actually give him a hand, when the crutches left an ache beneath his arms. No, it was all for that sick little joy Damian got in reminding Tim that he was _weak_. Just another chance to feel like he was _better then him_.

“Drake?” Tim realized he’d been staring, rather hard, at his glass of lemonade, and looked up, meeting Damian’s eyes. “Are you not well?”

“I’m fine,” Tim said, taking a forkful of his salad and shoving it in his mouth. Damian raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, returning to glance at his phone, scrolling through his emails. Tim rather dreaded their return to the office, to what he was sure would be Damian making a scene of helping his _poor step-brother_ around.

Tim just wanted to smack him over the head with one of his crutches. 

*

It was even worse then Tim could have expected. Damian, offering to help him as they got on the elevator. Damian, offering his arm when they got off- saying he’d take one of Tim’s crutches to carry. And the damn way the people cooed over it, like they bought his bullshit.

“I’m fine,” Tim said, rather roughly, even as Damian tried to take his arm. However, in doing so, Tim was distracted, and his next step at his crutch snagging on the small lip of the elevator. Clumsy, even for him.

And Tim couldn’t do anything to stop the fall, or he’d break his cover.

He landed with a painful thud, and suddenly everyone was buzzing, gasping, asking if he was okay- asking if they needed to call someone, and Tim wanted to pull his hair out. Before he could even say anything, Damian was pushing everyone away, crouching down and taking Tim’s arm, draping it up over his shoulders. Tim was confused- until Damian’s arms slipped under him, and he lifted him up- too easily. Way too easily.

When the hell had the brat gotten to be bigger then him? It still blew Tim’s mind.

“He’ll be okay,” Damian said, kicking the crutches out of the way. One of the secretaries grabbed them, and Damian just shook his head when she held them out. Everyone moved out of his way, as Damian walked towards his office, managing to get the door open, even as Tim stayed pressed against his chest.

Even once they were inside, and he had the door closed, he didn’t release Tim until he set him on the edge of his desk. “What the hell was that?” Tim hissed, glaring at his step-brother, who ignored him for the moment, pressing his hands to the hip Tim landed on, applying pressure. Tim grimaced, and Damian clicked his tongue.

“You’ll bruise. Nothing else.” Tim huffed.

“Yeah, I know.”

“That was clumsy.”

“Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just leave me the hell alone.” Damian glanced up at him, and Tim felt the anger in him again, welling up over that face that looked far too questioning- like Damian had _no idea_. “Don’t give me that look.” Still, Damian said nothing. Tim clenched his hands into fists. “Look, I know what you’re _doing_ , Damian. I get it. You’re enjoying this stupid show. You get to act like I’m weak, and I can’t even argue that. I’ve gotta play along. I’m sure you’re just overwhelmed with _joy_.”

Damian clicked his tongue, his hand moving from Tim’s hip to rest flat on the desk. He leaned in, close- too close for comfort, and Tim tried to lean back a little.

“Is that what you think?” Tim frowned, nodded- looked almost like he was pouting, child-like, and Damian’s own mouth fell to a frown. “You’re _dense_ , Drake.”

“I’m not immune to the obvious.”

“You wouldn’t know the obvious if it _bit you_.” Tim leaned forward now, as if trying to reclaim his space.

“What the fuck is your problem?” His voice was getting louder, and somewhere, some part of Tim hoped no one was listening. That his voice wasn’t carrying. It wasn’t a secret that things could be tense between him and Damian at times- but his faked injury had also forced a seemingly sweetening to their bond.

“My problem?” Damian reached out with one hand, and for a moment, Tim thought the younger man might slap him. Instead, that hand moved into his hair, raking back through it, tangling in the dark locks. “My problem is how utterly _blind_ you are, Drake.”

Damian tugged him in, and the moment their mouths crashed together Tim’s mind went completely blank. He didn’t exactly register that it was Damian kissing him, just that his mouth was warm, his lips were softer then he expected, and they moved against his in a way that made Tim want to kiss back-

Except Damian was pulling back before he got the chance. “You’re dense, Drake,” he repeated, glancing from his eyes, down to Tim’s lips, then back up. Then he was releasing his hair, taking a step back. “I have a meeting,” he muttered, turning and walking towards the door, leaving Tim sitting on the desk.

 _Huh_. Tim reached up, pressed his fingers to his lips. They felt strange, tingling almost, like they wanted Damian’s back, wanted the chance to move against them. _Huh_.

Maybe…maybe Tim had been wrong about Damian’s motives.


	61. Chickadee (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "DickDami prompt request; if you could do one where Dick keeps calling Damian "chickadee" to the point where he's pissed i'd greatly appreciate it oml"

“You’re dropping your shoulder,” Cassandra chided, as Damian rolled his eyes.

“I think I understand a proper stance,” Damian offered, and she shook her hear, a few wisps of black hair free from the knot at her neck. Damian tensed, read to jump at her, when Dick walked into view, happily strolling around behind the Manor, enjoy the late summer whether.

“You two playing nice?” he called, and Damian straightened up, rolling his eyes, even as Cass gave Dick a polite wave.

“As nice as ever.” Dick grinned at her, walking over and giving her a one arm hug. He had been absent for nearly two weeks now- and while Damian was _happy_ to see him, he could celebrate later. He rather enjoyed his training with Cassandra. She at least posed a challenge.

“And you? Are you behaving too, chickadee?” Dick ruffled Damian’s hair, who furrowed his brows, swatting his hand away.

“ _What_ did you just call me?” he asked, and Dick just grinned more.

“I missed you little bird,” he said, completely ignoring Damian and ruffling his hair again. Then he pulled back, making his way back to the Manor, Damian staring the whole time.

What had Dick called him?

The thoughts were shoved from his mind when Cassandra suddenly had her arms around him, slamming him down into the grass. Damian groaned, rolling onto his back from his side, staring up at her.

“You’re too easily distracted,” she pointed out, folding her arms, little smirk on her face.

*

“Reading anything good?” Damian peeked over his book at Dick, who had strolled casually into the sitting room. It seemed he’d decided to stay at the Manor for a bit. Not that Damian was complaining, but he didn’t need a distraction right then.

Just as he hadn’t yesterday. As Cassandra had so kindly pointed out.

“Nothing you would be interested in.” Damian looked back at his book, even as Dick sat on the arm of the couch, leaning in and looking over his shoulder.

“Just once, I’d like to catch you doing something _normal_ , chickadee,” Dick teased, tossing his arm around Damian’s shoulders. The teen tensed, as Dick gave him a half hug, before he moved off the couch, heading for the doorway.

“What the hell are you calling me?” Damian yelled after him, but Dick ignored him completely.

*

“Grayson has an irrational attachment to pet names,” Damian said, acing the cave. Tim glanced up from his tablet, watched the youngest as he turned, pacing the same few yards.

“That’s nothing new.” Tim wasn’t going to question why Damian decided to even mention it to him. The years had made their relationship better, but it was still far from perfect.

“He’s taken to a new one.” Tim raised an eyebrow, but looked at the cave’s main monitor, his tablet hooked into the computer, files downloading.

“Oh? What is it?”

“-tt- _Chickadee_.” 

Tim paused for a moment, before he burst out laughing. He tossed his head back, and Damian stopped, frowning, glaring at him. His hands balled into fists.

“I swear on all things you hold holy Drake.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Tim wiped at his eyes, tears in the corners. “Just. _Chickadee_? He’s calling _you_ chickadee?” Damian clicked his tongue again.

“I cannot even fathom what it is.” Tim snickered, swiping on his tablet and opening his web browser, typing it in and then turning it, showing Damian a picture of the bird.

“It’s a bird,” Tim offered, “I mean, it’s rather _small_ and _cute_.” Damian’s cheeks flushed with anger, and Tim couldn’t _help_ himself. “I mean, you’ve gotta outgrow Robin, right? Maybe Chickadee should be your next mantel.”

Damian lunged at him, shoving the tablet from his hand and dragging Tim out of the chair, so he landed with a thud on the floor. Tim could only laugh as the teen pinned him down, picturing the family calling Damian _Chickadee_ over the comlink.

“I will end you,” Damian hissed, and Tim reached up, shoved at his shoulders lightly.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry. Maybe Dick still just thinks you’re small and cute.”

This time Damian’s flush wasn’t in anger- and Tim managed to keep his laughter at a low chuckle.

*

“There’s my chickadee!” Dick called, tossing his arms around Damian from behind, pulling the teen back into an embrace. Damian squirmed, in full costume- had been about to get on his bike, head out into the city.

“Grayson!” he managed to squirm away, turning, cheeks red. “This pet name is pitiful!”

“It’s not,” Dick said with a grin, ruffling Damian’s hair with his gloved hand. “So, am I tagging along with you tonight?”

“Not if you call me _that_ ,” Damian huffed, and Dick rolled his eyes.

“But it’s so fitting. They’re precious and cute,” Dick offered, his smile growing, “Just like you.”

Damian frowned. And tried to hold it.

But it was hard, when Dick had blatantly called him cute.

“I- I am no such thing, Grayson.” Dick shook his head, arm going around Damian’s shoulders and pulling the teen in. “I am not small or-”

“I never said you were small,” Dick teased- and it was true. Damian had about an inch on him now. “Just _cute_. And besides, you’ll always be the babybat to me.” He leaned in, kissed Damian’s flushed cheek, before he pulled back, turning around. “Bruce said we can have the Batmobile!” he called, walking away, and Damian watched for a minute, before reaching up, gloves fingers running along his cheek, where Dick at kissed him.

And he realized he was smiling.

“-tt-,” he started, hurrying off after Dick, and yelling, “it is still a ridiculous name!


	62. A Game of Chicken (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation for [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) of [this awesome fic she wrote](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/post/123774690715/nyadami-dickdami-wc-666). Go read it <3

So this is a little continuation of her fic which y’all should definitely read.

Damian expected Dick to lecture him, as the evening progressed. He expected some sort of brush off, how he should have kissed one of the Titans, _someone his own age_. He waited for it, ready to tell Dick to _shut up_ , that he had no desire to share any sort of _mouth germs_ with this lot.

And if he was honest, he _did_ like Dick the best.

But the lecture never came- nor did any actions on whatever plans Dick had been working on. Night dragged to early morning, before the oldest finally released the Titans to bed- with the simple instructions that they began at first dark.

Sure.

Damian felt almost strange retiring to one of the Tower’s rooms- hadn’t spent much time out of Gotham as of late. Being a guest at the tower could prove to be interesting, if only to better learn the habits of the others. Not that Damian had an _interest_ in the Titans- simply that he wanted to know the best ways to out perform them.

In some ways, he had become like his father.

Damian stalked down the hallway, his hood up- he was still rather embarrassed over the whole ordeal with Dick, if he was honest. With only himself, of course. That Tim had somehow thought to encourage such a stupid action- it was as if he knew that Damian would be forced into an action such as that.

Then again, of the whole room, what other option was there? Tim himself? In that moment Damian was more likely to throw Tim into the pits of hell then even _dream_ of kissing him. And he did not know the Titans well enough. There had only been one option.

Yes, it had to be that. And not that Damian’s interest was somehow obvious.

Damian pushed the door to his room open, was about to step inside when a hand pressed above his, pushing it open wider. He glanced up, knew those blue finger stripes anywhere- knew the strange fruity scent of Dick’s shampoo in his sleep- and felt his heart began to race.

“Inside.” The word was spoken low, _commanded_ , and Damian could only _listen_ , stepping inside his room quickly. Dick followed, quick to shut the door and turn, boxing Damian in so the teen’s back pressed gently to it.

“-tt- Grayson, what are you doing?” Damian hoped he sounded far more confident then he felt. It was hard to read Dick, with his domino mask still in place. His mouth was set in a neutral line, his shoulders squared. Somehow, he seemed larger then he was.

Dick didn’t speak, just pressed a hand against the door- right near Damian’s head- and leaned in, pretty mouth cracking into a smirk. “Is _that_ how you kiss, Damian?” he whispered, voice low, from his chest. “How disappointing.”

Damian’s mouth went slack, hanging partially open, as he stared at Dick. This...this wasn’t how the lecture was supposed to start.

Dick’s other hand reached out, gripped Damian’s chin tightly, tilting his face up. “Someone needs a lesson.”

Before Damian would even process those words, Dick’s mouth was against his again. This time, there was no harsh _clack_ of their teeth. Dick’s mouth covered his, moved slowly, almost lazily. Damian felt a tremble pass through him, tried to suppress it, clenched his hands into fists as Dick kissed him so slowly it somehow seemed to starve his brain of oxygen. Like Damian _couldn’t breathe_.

For a moment, he just stood there, letting it happen- and then his own mouth was moving, following Dick’s lead, long, slow glides, until Dick’s tongue was tracing his lower lip, teasing, not pressing into Damian’s mouth but begging entry, then pulling away. Damian reached up, trying to grasp onto Dick’s suit, his gloved hands finally finding Dick’s shoulders and squeezing, a little sound bubbling up in the back of his throat. Dick smiled against him, finally pressing his tongue past Damian’s lips- and Damian didn’t fight him, didn’t even _think_ to stop him.

Because this was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

Dick’s tongue ran along Damian’s teeth, along sharp points, before pressing against his own, coaxing Damian to move more. He tilted the teen’s head back, before his hand left Damian’s chin, pressed open palm along his throat- didn’t squeeze, but kept him still. The presence alone had Damian’s breath rushing out through his nose- had him unable to inhale, because his mouth was too occupied. He was dizzy, was making another, louder sound- needy this one, _certainly not a whine_ , as Dick began to pull back, dragging his teeth along Damian’s lower lip.

“That’s how you properly kiss someone,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over Damian’s mouth. He was smirking- smug and arrogant, and Damian wanted to shove him, to smack the smirk right off his face.

Instead he pulled on his shoulders, forcing Dick to lean back in, to kiss him again.

Dick seemed shocked- for a moment- before he was kissing Damian faster, harder, open mouthed and wet and _desperate_ as Damian’s arms slipped over his shoulders, clutched at his back. His hand left Damian’s throat, clutched at his cape and pulled him closer, so they were nearly chest to chest, one of his legs pressing between Damian’s thighs.

He was thoroughly pinned, and Damian had no intention of trying to escape. Instead, he nipped at the tongue in his mouth, heard Grayson growl somewhere in his throat- and rocked his hips against Dick’s thigh.

If it was a game of _chicken_ they were going to play, he wouldn’t back down. If Dick thought he could prove something by coming in here and kissing Damian breathless- well, he’d prove him wrong.

Because that was _who he was_.

And this had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fact that Damian felt as if he was melting within in suit, that he was hard and wanted noting more then to rub against the man pinning him down. No, definitely not.

Dick nipped at Damian’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, as the younger one rocked his hips forward again. He expected that Dick would pull back, that he’d storm out- and it would be a victory for Damian. That he would have escaped the lecture and proven that he was willing to go further then Dick- as in everything.

Instead, the hand that had gripped his cape was now pressing to his tunic, pushing up under it, working open the bottom half of Damian’s suit. The younger gasped as Dick pulled off his lip, tipping his head back as Dick managed to get it open, slipped his gloved hand inside, past Damian’s underwear and cup, grabbing him almost _rough_ and squeezing.

Damian gasped, mouth open as he panted, as Dick managed to free his cock, squeezing again. His glove felt almost strange, and Damian squirmed. A moment later and Dick released him, reaching up and tugging one glove off with his teeth, tossing it, before he reached down, bare hand now grasping Damian, stroking up. The teen groaned, eyes rolling, and Dick leaned in, found a small patch of flesh on his neck exposed and closed his mouth over, sucking.

Damian could have told him to stop. He was sure if he voiced any such opinion, Dick would be off him faster then either could breathe. But doing so would have given the older man a victory- and Damian didn’t want that.

It didn’t help that Dick’s hand felt better then Damian ever dreamed it would. _And oh, he had dreamed of it_.

Dick pulled off Damian’s neck, leaving a patch of red skin that would turn to an ugly bruise, and kissed up, under his ear as he stroked. “C’mon babybat,” he breathed, “I know you’ve got more in you then that.”

He squeezed the head of Damian’s cock, and the teen gasped loudly, moaning as Dick dragged his hand down, before stroking up, thumb pressing over the head, teasing his slit. When Damian trembled this time, he was sure Dick felt it.

“Grayson,” he breathed, before his mentor pressed his mouth to a fresh patch of skin, began sucking a new, ugly bruise into him. Damian whined, the sound ending in a stuttered “f-fuck”, which earned him Dick’s teeth digging nearly into his skin. Damian gave a yelp.

“ _Language_ ,” he chided, lapping at the injured flesh. “Don’t be a _bad boy_ , Dami.” The teen gasped, felt his belly clenching up at that, his cock leaking more, over Dick’s knuckles, and the older man breathed a chuckle into his skin. “Mmm, you like that? Do you like being _bad_?”

Damian pushed his hips towards Dick, eyes rolling behind his mask. He could hear his pulse, hammering wildly in his temples, could feel pressure at the base of his spine and cock- his body crying for release already. _How had this happened?_

“Or maybe you’d rather be good,” Dick added, nosing against Damian’s cheek. “Hmm? Is that it? My good little babybat?”

“Yes,” Damian breathed, before he could stop himself. Dick grinned, kissing the corner of his mouth, his strokes speeding up. “G-Grayson.”

“You’re okay,” Dick breathed, twisting his fist around the head of Damian’s cock. “I’ve got you babybat. _You’re doing so good_.” Damian’s breath caught, hiccuped out of him, as he felt the corners of his eyes growing wet, behind his mask.

Then Dick’s mouth was back on his, tongue pressing in, kissing him in a way that was desperate, but made _Damian_ feel like the desperate one. Damian squeezed his shoulders, pushing up into his hand again, losing his rhythm as his vision faded along the edges, white-

And then he was groaning, low and load, right into Dick’s mouth, hips jerking, then stilling, as Dick stroked him through his orgasm- until Damian was slumping back against the door, breaking the kiss and panting. Dick smirked down at him, reaching up and dragging his thumb along Damian’s swollen lower lip. When Damian’s tongue darted out by instinct, it came back bitter.

“Not only is that how you kiss someone, Damian,” he whispered, “that’s how you properly seduce someone.” He stepped back, bending down to grab his discarded glove, before reaching for the door handle. He tugged, and Damian stumbled forward, pressing up against Dick’s chest. The older man smiled down at him. “Let me know if you need a second lesson, _Robin_.”

Dick slipped out the door, closing it behind him, and Damian leaned back against it, slumping down to the floor, head bowed forward.

That hadn’t just happened. He was obviously just living some vivid wet dream- he’d wake up with his sheets a mess, still living the embarrassment of kissing Dick in front of everyone.

That was the only explanation. No way Dick had actually touched him, had offered to _do it again_.

Not that it would happen again- although, if Damian wasn’t dreaming, he wasn’t entirely sure who had won. He hadn’t backed down, but neither had Dick.

And maybe if he was honest, he could use a second lesson...


	63. Arranged Marriage pt6 (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "You just wreck! Thats a good thing =), whenever you have the time could you do a Tim/Dami Arranged Marriage when Tim wakes up with a slight hangover and starts doing flirtatious things in front of Damian all day and Damian notices.. Thx for reading!"

Damian woke to the feeling of Tim shifting back against him, fitting perfectly into the curves and folds of his body- the way Damian arched his legs, slightly. On reflex he tightened his arm around the other man’s waist, pressed his face into the back of his neck, Tim’s hair tickling his nose and cheeks.

It took Damian a moment to actually take all of that in- that Tim was in his arms, sleeping. That he was pressed back against him in a way that could prove to be problematic, if Damian wasn’t careful.

And then, the previous night was there, like flash, a memory behind his closed eyes, assaulting him with images and sounds and _feelings_. The way Tim’s mouth tasted, the way his hand moved. The way each word had been some sort of flirtation.

Damian’s eyes shot open, and he shifted back, out of a new reflex. Tim gave a little groan, reaching towards the pillows and pulling one over his head.

“I hate champagne,” he muttered, and Damian pushed himself up on one elbow, looking down at his husband, as the man curled up into himself.

“Hungover?” he asked, and Tim released the pillow, rolling onto his back and looking up at Damian. His eyes were slightly red, but otherwise he didn’t look too rough for wear.

“A little,” Tim admitted, a blush rising up on his cheeks. “Guess that champagne was stronger then I thought.” Damian gave him a weak smile, before Tim reached up, running his fingertips along his chin, up his jawline. “Staying up there? I could use some company.” Damian felt his breath catch. “Nothing like a warm pillow to help cure a hangover.”

Damian fought to remember words, how to breathe. He had been sure that this morning would have been full of awkwardness, of Tim escaping from his bed as soon as possible. That the two of them would pretend this had never happened.

“Unless you’re going to make me breakfast,” Tim teased, pulling his hand back.

“What do you want?” Tim stared up at Damian for a moment.

“I…I was kidding, Damian.” But Damian was pulling himself from the bed already, walking across the room to grab a pair of sweatpants from his dresser and step into them. Tim rolled onto his side to watch, and when Damian glanced back at him- well, Tim was staring. He wasn’t imagining that, _was he_?

“Just…stay in bed,” Damian offered, wanting to cross the room, to sink his hand into Tim’s hair, kiss his temple. To press him back into the pillows.

He had a strange urge to care for him. As if he wanted to make up for all the cruelty. Which- if Damian was honest, _he did_.

*

Damian wasn’t the cook Alfred had been, but he knew his way around the kitchen well enough. And by the time he heard his door opening, and Tim’s gentle footsteps, he had coffee brewing and was working his spatula in the pan, shuffling eggs and vegetables around.

“You could have stayed in bed,” Damian said, as Tim appeared next to their small table. His hair was tussled, one shoulder completely exposed from where his shirt had slouched down. Tim gave him a small smile.

“That wouldn’t be fair to you.” He moved to the counter, pulling out two mugs and pouring their coffee. He left one completely black, the other sweetened with sugar, and after a brief turn to the fridge, french vanilla cream.

Damian quirked up an eyebrow. Tim never used any flavor other then Hazelnut, unless he was in an exceptionally good mood. Damian had memorized his coffee tastes.

Tim took a sip, leaning his hip against the counter as Damian pulled two plates down, shifting the scramble from the pan to them. “You didn’t have to do this,” Tim offered, as Damian lifted both plates, taking them to the table. Tim set a mug in front of Damian’s seat, before sitting down himself.

“Maybe I wanted to,” Damian admitted, and Tim smiled at him, across the table. They were fairly quiet as they ate, but Damian didn’t think it felt strained. It was…nice. It felt as if neither felt they were forced to speak, that they could simply enjoy each other’s company.

That was what was happening, right? It was mutual? Damian hoped. He felt like he’d come so far with Tim, felt like maybe- maybe it was okay to hope. Maybe there was a chance.

Damian was pulled from his thoughts when he felt Tim hooking his foot around his ankle, rubbing gently. He glanced up, and his husband smiled at him, over his mug- saying nothing, only taking a sip of coffee.

Yeah, Damian felt secure in thinking maybe there was a _chance_.

*

“Mother is still there?” Damian leaned back, the arm of the couch braced beneath his shoulder blades, and stretched his legs out. He had been contemplating asking Tim to watch a movie with him- something he wasn’t sure they had ever done. Had been working himself up to have enough courage for that while his husband showered, when his phone had rang.

On the other end, Bruce chuckled. “She wasn’t going to fly in for just an evening, Damian.”

“Grandfather too?”

“Of course.”

Damian huffed. Bruce had started the conversation telling Damian that Talia wanted to see more of her son and his husband before she left. Damian really didn’t feel like he had that in him today. Especially if his grandfather was still there.

He didn’t forget the way Ras had looked at Tim the night prior.

“Not today,” Damian said, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Please?”

“I’ll clear a spot in our schedule so we can have lunch with her tomorrow.” Bruce paused. “Maybe your grandfather won’t want to come.”

“We can dream, right?” The two laughed.

“You and Tim have a good night?” Damian flushed at that, shifting on the couch.

“Uh. Yeah. We did.” He wondered how much his father really knew. He didn’t tell his father the extent to how miserable he had been- but he only played up the happy marriage to a point, when it was just the two of them.

Damian was trying to find more words, when Tim walked into the room. He leaned over the back of the couch, smiling down at Damian, his hair wet, falling along his cheeks.

He was only half dressed, shirtless, and Damian found he was staring at the way his neck curved into his shoulder.

“Bruce?” Tim asked, glancing at the phone, and Tim smiled. He held his hand out, taking the phone from Damian. “Hi Bruce.”

“Tim? Hello.”

“Thanks for keeping my family entertained last night. I’m so sorry about my mother’s horrible sense of humor.” Bruce chuckled. “This isn’t business is it? I was hoping to steal my husband for a bit.”

Damian felt his heart pounding. Tim would normally never refer to him as his husband privately like this.

Damian liked it.

He missed the rest of the brief conversation, came to when Tim was passing his phone back to him, then reaching out to run his fingers back through Damian’s short hair. “Let’s do something,” Tim offered, and Damian felt his heart jumping.

Part of him wanted that something to be crawling right back into his bed. But he didn’t have the courage to say such a thing.

“Movie?” he asked, and Tim glanced at their television.

“Alright. Pick something while I’m getting dressed.” He pulled his hand away, leaving the room, and Damian tipped his head back for a moment, trying to steady his breaths.

This felt like a first date.

*

What Damian had expected was Tim to settle comfortably on the opposite end of the couch. That maybe their legs would brush if they both stretched out. That on occasion, Tim would glance at him, smile. That was all.

He wasn’t prepared for Tim’s own version, apparently.

Tim had reappeared with a blanket, had settled in right next to Damian- who had shifted so he was facing the television. Damian had tensed, when Tim tugged the blanket over them, forcefully taking Damian’s arm and draping it over his shoulders so he could lean into his chest, sighing contently.

“Relax,” Tim whispered, taking the remote from him and starting the movie. He tossed it away then, towards the other end of the couch, settling further against Damian. “I don’t bite.”

There was a pause, and then Tim added,

“Unless you want me to.”

Damian choked, and completely missed the little smile on Tim’s face.

*

Afternoon faded in a mingling of movies that lost their interest at times. Damian noticed Tim shifted more when he was bored, and usually within minutes he’d remark on a scene- and then they were _discussing_ it. What they didn’t like. What they had. Until the plot picked back up again.

Just talking. Like a couple might.

They ordered take out, ate on the couch, Tim shifting so his legs were laying across Damian’s lap instead. When everything was cleared away, Damian found he would slide the blanket back, stroke Tim’s ankle without much thought.

And that the other man didn’t stop him.

Damian had just started another movie when Tim pulled his legs back. For a moment, Damian thought as he stood up that he might be going to bed. It wasn’t exactly _late_ , but he knew Tim had been hungover that morning, and perhaps he wanted to get some extra sleep.

Instead Tim turned, grabbing the blanket and tossing it away from Damian, before crawling right onto his lap, straddling his thighs. Damian choked on his breath, as Tim reached his hands back, teasing Damian’s short hair.

“Last night,” he started, and Damian felt heat rising in his own cheeks. He had almost thought Tim wouldn’t even bring it up. Part of him didn’t want him to. That way, he could have that little sliver of time forever, where Tim wanted him.

“It-”

“-should happen again,” Tim finished, and Damian choked again. Tim’s too-pink lips quirked up. “What? Did you think I was going to complain about it?”

Damian paused. “…Possibly.” Tim shook his head, his eyes going soft.

“Look. We got off on the wrong foot. You didn’t like me, and I,” Tim paused, stroking a thumb over Damian’s temple, “well, I didn’t like you. I didn’t want to be in this. And I know you didn’t either. But now…” Tim leaned in closer, pretty eyes lashes and prettier mouth making Damian’s throat dry, “Well, maybe I’m changing my opinion of you, Damian.”

Tim leaned in closer, ghosted his mouth over Damian’s, the barest of kisses as the other man reached up, grasped at his hips. Tim shifted, grinding down into Damian, making him gasp.

Tim smirked. “Besides, it’s _been a while_ , hasn’t it? For both of us. And last night… well, it could be a thing, Damian. Something that benefits us both.” He rocked his hips again, leaning in, breath hot against Damian’s ear. “I know you’re attracted to me _now_. And maybe that’s mutual. Maybe I want a little taste…”

Damian’s fingers flexed, before Tim reached back, pulled them from his hips and slid right off of Damian’s lap, landing on the carpet with a gentle _thud_. Before Damian could even react, Tim was gripping his knees, leaning between them, squeezing.

“Can I have it?” Damian stared down, could barely hear Tim speaking over his pulse hammering in his temples. He had to be dreaming. He must have fallen asleep during one of the movies. There was no way that Tim-

That Tim was reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers dipping down beneath it. Damian parted his lips, exhaled as one hand delved in, past his underwear, wrapping around his cock and pulling him free.

“You’re not saying no,” Tim whispered, as he stroked up along Damian’s cock, thumb pressing along the slit. Damian tipped his head back, thought that he _should_ say no, but god, the word wouldn’t form, not with the way Tim’s hand worked so perfectly, stroking up so slowly, thumb swiping over the head. The smaller man smiled, leaned in, let his tongue tease the bundle of nerves just under the head. Damian gasped, pushed his hips forward without thought, cock bumping along Tim’s mouth.

He giggled, opening his mouth and taking Damian in, half of his length settled perfectly over his tongue, his fist covering the rest. Damian fought to breathe, as Tim gave him no chance to recover, bobbing his head in perfect time with his strokes. Damian lifted his head, just so he could look down, watch the way his cock disappeared in Tim’s mouth, the stretch of his pretty pink lips.

His felt his cock twitch, orgasm threatening once, and a strangled moan came from his throat. Tim giggled around his cock, and that had his thighs trembling. He pulled up, hand stroking up over wet skin, glancing up through his thick lashes. “Is that short fuse just for me?”

Damian felt heat rising in his cheeks, and he glanced away, caught only a glimpse of Tim’s pretty smile.

“Relax,” he whispered, leaning in to lap at the head of his cock. “I take it as a compliment _darling_.” He swallowed him down again, humming happily as he leaned in more, took more of Damian into his mouth, until he was nearly pressing against the back of his throat.

Tim didn’t gag. That alone could have made Damian come.

But the way Tim squeezed his thigh, made a little noise around him as he pulled back, before bobbing forward again, the way he squirmed because, god, he was _excited_ \- that was what did it for Damian. The fact that he was _enjoying it_.

He bucked up, groaned, hips stilling as he came over Tim’s tongue. He felt the way his tongue moved as he swallowed, before pulling off, looking up and licking his wet lips, a smirk curving the very end of them.

Without much thought Damian reached down, grabbed Tim by his shirt and pulled him up, smashing their lips together. The kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, but Damian didn’t care. He didn’t know how else to get across to Tim how _good_ he felt, that he was _thankful_ for it. 

He let go of Tim as the man settled in his lap, one arm hooking around his waist, the other pressing along his groin, feeling his obvious erection through his yoga pants. The smaller man bucked his hips, moaned into Damian’s mouth, as Damian reached into them, pulled him free and stroked him. _Fast. Desperate._

“Hnnn, oh god,” Tim whispered, pulling back from the kiss and panting, his hips moving with Damian’s hand. “ _Fuck_.”

Damian smiled, kissed a line along his jaw. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, heard Tim’s breath catch. “I wish you could see yourself.”

“Fuck me i-in front of a mirror sometime,” Tim whispered, grasping at Damian’s shoulders to keep from losing his balance. “Then I _could_.”

Damian groaned, twisted his hand around the head of Tim’s cock. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Temptation is what I do best.” Damian leaned his head down, nuzzled against Tim’s neck as the man’s breathing grew faster, his hips losing all pretense of rhythm, until he was whining, moaning, little broken sounds as he came over Damian’s hand. He smiled into Tim’s neck, arm locked tight around him as he slumped, slightly, hands still gripping Damian’s shoulders. 

When Tim finally squirmed, pulling free of Damian and pulling his pants back into place, Damian got the chance to fix his own- noticed the stains now on the bottom of his tshirt. He sighed, then, resigned, tugged it off and wiped his hand on there. Next to him, Tim giggled.

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

He grinned. “No, I’m not. _At all_.” Tim reached out, brushed his fingers down Damian’s shoulder, his bicep- openly staring at him. “And you call me pretty.”

“You...are.” Tim licked his lips.

“Yeah well. Look at yourself sometime. Remind me next time we’re out to make some sort of perverse _my husband is hot_ comment to the media. Give them something to talk about.” Damian rolled his eyes, but felt his heart hammering, as well. “So I...take it you’re okay with this.” Damian nodded, and Tim reached out, took his hand, squeezing it. “Good. At least if we’re stuck in this, we might as well have some good sex.”

Damian said nothing. Part of him agreed- loved the chance to get his hands on Tim. But there was something...more he wanted. It wasn’t just physical, the strange sort of excitement he got around the man.

“And who knows,” Tim continued, shrugging a shoulder, “Maybe you’ll realize you like me. Maybe we’ll do this whole romance thing completely backwards.” Damian glanced up at him, met his eyes- and oh, Tim was smiling, so utterly sweet that Damian felt his bones going to water.

He had a chance. That’s what that smile said. _Damian had a chance_.


	64. #1 Dad (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Tim and Kon's kid gets them a single #1 dad mug so clearly this calls for a dad competition!"
> 
> This is going to reference a verse I sadly never really wrote, called The Kieli verse. Where Tim and Kon end up having a baby made from their genetics. Thanks to...who knows what lab, like I said I never wrote it. But regardless, we have an adorable little Meta baby for the happy couple.

Tim walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, still half asleep. He was heading blindly for the coffee machine, as was his usual routine.

He had just started the coffee when a single object on the kitchen bar caught his attention. He turned, walking over, reaching out and picking up the white mug, reading the large, cartoon writing on the front: _#1 Dad_ , to himself.

“What’s that?” He glanced over his shoulder, found Kon standing in the doorway, arms folded. Tim held it out so he could read it. Kon chuckled. “Kieli must have left it for me.”

“You?” Tim asked, grinning to himself. “Pretty sure you mean _me_.”

Kon rolled his eyes, walking over and plucking it from his husband’s hands. “Fairly sure I’m the one teaching her to _fly_ , honey.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “And who took her for a ride in the _Batmobile_? Hmm?” Kon chuckled.

“She can fly _because_ of me.”

“And she’ll be the smartest _Super_ in the family because of me.” Tim folded his arms, grinning smugly up at Kon, who frowned.

“Yeah well...I think she and I might suddenly need to fly on over to the zoo.”

“Yeah well, I could just hop on a Wayne private jet and take her to Disney.”

Around the corner, covering her mouth to keep her fathers from hearing her laughter, the subject of their argument stood. Kieli’s pretty blue eyes were almost squeezed shut with the effort to keep from laughing so loud it woke all of Gotham. Her dark hair- just like both her dads- was a mess, unkempt waves still tussled from sleep. If she were to pull her hands away, though, it would be obvious she’d grow up to have Tim’s pretty face- high cheekbones, slim nose.

But at ten, she was still round in her cheeks, still short- even if she would never reach Kon’s height, even if she’d be the shortest in the Super family.

She continued to giggle, so much so she felt herself beginning to lift off the ground. She focused to keep her feet flat on the ground. The flying thing was still new, needed some work. Seemed every time she wanted to, she had to focus on that and nothing else to even get off the ground. But then, sometimes when she was distracted, she’d feel her feet lifting up off the ground.

It was a pain and she had no idea how her dad dealt with it.

“We could just ask her who it was for,” Kon pointed out, and Kieli was quick to turn, scrambling away from the kitchen, towards the penthouse’s living room. She crawled up onto the couch, hoping neither of her dads would realize she was listening.

Eventually, she’d let on that it was just a joke. That she had a second mug, just like it, in her room. Eventually. For now, she was enjoying the almost sweet bickering too much.

Uncle Jason had been right. It _was_ funny.


	65. Hair Cut (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [holybatfanbat-man](http://holybatfanbat-man.tumblr.com/) tagged me in [this great post](http://holybatfanbat-man.tumblr.com/post/124452670839/kannoponta-madnizilla#notes) and tagged it for TimDami and just...I am weak.

Tim brushed his bangs back, leaning in towards the monitor, only to have them ghost over his eyes again, a moment later. He huffed, blowing them off his forehead for a moment, as next to him he heard Damian chuckle.

“Need a hair cut, Drake?” He pressed his hand to the counter, leaning his weight on it, eyeing the way Tim’s hair fell in messy locks from the night wind of their first run. Tim rolled his eyes.

“No.” Even if maybe it was a lie. Maybe it was getting a little long. He brushed it back again, even as Damian clicked his tongue, removing himself from Tim’s side and disappearing. Tim didn’t bother to turn, busy reading up on the latest patient updates from Arkham.

He had his chin perched on his palm, able to ignore the few strands falling into his vision, when his chair was suddenly jerked back. Tim gave a little yelp, falling forward for a minute, before his chair was quickly spun around, and Damian was lifting a leg, sliding his knee between Tim’s thighs. He leaned over him, as Tim squirmed.

“What are you-” he reached up, managing to grasp a handful of Damian’s cape, as the younger man grabbed his bangs, shoving them back. They were pulled tight for a minute, and Tim winced. “ _Hey_!”

A moment later, and Damian leaned back, hands held up, palms out. Tim’s vision was free, and with the hand not clutching at Damian’s cape he reached up, feeling atop his own head.  
His bangs had been secured back by a hair tie. He reached towards the counter behind him, blindly, finding his phone and unlocking it, bringing up the camera so he could get a better look.

_Baby pink_. He glared, and Damian laughed, taking his phone in a fluid motion and flipping the camera. The sound alerted Tim that Damian had taken a picture before he could even realize he planned to.

“Oh what a pout,” Damian teased, thumb pressing along the screen. “This is going as my background, Drake.”

“Brat,” Tim breathed, and Damian grinned, leaning in closer, dropping the phone back on the counter.

“You like it.” He brushed a stray strand off Tim’s cheek. “You need a hair cut.”

This time, Tim smirked, as Damian’s gloved fingers threaded back through his hair. “ _You like it_ ,” he mocked. The teen leaned in closer, cocking his head slightly.

“Maybe I do.” He pressed his mouth to the corner of Tim’s, felt Tim’s lips twitching into a real smile. He tugged on his hair, gently, tipped Tim’s head back, and moved his mouth to his jawline, nosing at the curve of bone before kissing, softly. “Maybe I do _a lot_.”


	66. Bad Habits (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) said: "Dami picking up bad habits from Dick is what I live for 

Damian trudged into the kitchen, hands shoved in his pockets. He had to be suited up and in the cave in a half hour. Patrol waited for no one.

His stomach growled and he clicked his tongue, tossing open a cupboard and pulling a box of cereal out, before rummaging around for a bowl. He opened the box, absentmindedly reaching his hand in and pulling a few pieces out, tossing the sugary, crunchy bits into his mouth, before pouring some into the bowl. He left the box on the counter, moving to the fridge for milk, before locating a spoon.

Without so much as a glance out towards the table, he hopped up onto the counter, grabbing the bowl and taking a bit. He wondered if he could get completely suited up and ready to go in ten minutes. He was rather hungry, and he was fairly sure that in about two minutes, the bowl would be gone, and he’d want another.  
He shouldn’t have skipped lunch.

He shouldn’t have waited until this late to eat dinner.

He had the spoon in his mouth when Tim stepped into the kitchen, pausing when he saw him. Damian glanced at him, pulling the spoon from his mouth and chewing without a word.

“Are you...eating cereal for dinner?” Tim asked, raising his eyebrows, and Damian shrugged a shoulder, taking another bite.

“Is there a problem?” he managed out, around his spoon and a mouthful. Tim continued to stare.

“Uh, no. I guess. That’s just...a very Dick thing to do.” Tim moved over to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a water bottle. “So is sitting on the counter. And talking with your mouth full.” He opened the bottle, took a sip as Damian shoved the spoon into his mouth again. “You’re picking up his bad habits.”

“Am not.” The spoon was still in his mouth, making the words hard to understand. Tim smiled.

“Uh-huh. Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” He closed the fridge, taking another sip from his water bottle. “Better inhale that if you won’t wanna be late. Bruce doesn’t wait for anyone.”

Tim turned on his heel, leaving Damian to sit on the counter alone. He shrugged a shoulder, holding the spoon in his mouth as he grabbed the box of cereal, pouring more into his bowl. Another few minutes wouldn’t hurt.


	67. Bad Habits pt.2 (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) said: "BUT IMAGINE if it's not only Damian who's casual about it, imagine if one night Dick comes downstairs to grab his own dinner cearel and sees Damian already eating one and just joins him without thinking too much of it ( BONUS POINTS IF TIM SEES IT OH MY GOD YOUR TIM ) i just had to say it bc the way you wrote Dami was SO CASUAL I died over it"
> 
> Can't stop won't stop. Damian picking up all of Dick's bad habits always.

Dick rubbed the back of his neck, cursing. He should have known better then to shorten his stretches after his work out. And to nap right after. Last thing he needed was to be stiff when he had planned to go on patrol that evening.

He headed towards the kitchen, wondering how much time he had left, before he had to suit up. It couldn’t possibly be that late yet.

He rounded the doorway, pausing when he saw Damian sitting on the counter, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. The teen glanced at him, holding it in his mouth as he gave a little wave. Dick smiled back, heading over and leaning right over him, stretching up for a bowl.

Damian rolled his eyes at the invasion of his space, but grabbed the box of cereal, passing it wordlessly to the older man, as soon as his bowl was on the counter. Dick poured what was probably too much cereal into the bowl, before grabbing the milk from the fridge. He left that on the counter as well, hopping up once he had a spoon, and sitting quietly next to Damian.

“You skip your stretches?” Damian asked, before popping the spoon back into his mouth. Dick nodded, holding his own spoon in his mouth as he reached back to rub his neck again. “Idiot.” The word was muffled around the spoon.

“I was tired.” Also muffled, as Dick held the spoon in his mouth, and Damian rolled his eyes, knocking his knee over against Dick’s thigh. The older man leaned over, nudging his shoulder into Damian’s arm, jostling him and almost making him spill the contents of his bowl onto his thighs and the floor.

Damian scowled around his spoon, as Dick grinned sheepishly. And that was exactly how Tim found them, as he made his way into the kitchen to grab his nightly water before heading down to suit up for patrol.

He paused in the doorway, staring for a moment. It had been funny enough to catch Damian mimicking Dick in so many ways a few nights prior, but to see him side-by-side with the man- it was almost like seeing double.

Even if they looked so different.

“Hi Timmy,” Dick said, mouthful, and Tim gave a little wave, opening the fridge.

“You do know we’re supposed to be on the streets in twenty minutes,” he remarked, closing the fridge before he opened his water. Dick gawked for a moment.

“Really? It’s that late.” Tim grinned, watched as Damian shrugged a shoulder, pouring more cereal into his bowl. Dick glanced down at his, before he took the box from Damian, emptying what was left. “I’m sure I’ll have time.”

“Right.” Tim took a sip of his water. He thought to comment on the likeness between the two- but then thought better of it. He didn’t exactly want to make Damian too self conscious of it, even if he had pointed it out the other night. He capped his water bottle, instead offering, “I’ll see you two in the cave,” and turned, thinking a few of Dick’s bad habits could be good for Damian.

As he was leaving, he heard Damian remark, “You took the end of the cereal. That’s the best part!”

Dick’s laughter followed. “Sorry kid. That’s always got my name on it.”


	68. Bad Habits pt3 (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "I'M SO SORRY BUT i JUST HAD ANOTHER THOUGHT, WHAT ABOUT DICK PICKING UP BAD HABITS FROM DAMIAN?!? I just imagined someone being like "was Nightwing always this terrefying" or "Whats wrong with Dick's smile and why am I scared" ( dami's imma kill you smileeee ) idkk just him picking some bad habits toooo"

Stephanie fell down onto the mat, catching herself on her elbows to keep from landing entirely on her back. Above her, in full costume, Dick loomed, taking up far too much of her vision somehow, despite his lean body. His mouth was twisted up into a smile, this strange almost cocky kind that had her heart hammering up into her throat.

Truthfully, he was terrifying, for a brief moment-

Before the smile broke into his charming one, and he was leaning down, extending his hand and pulling her up. “Good round,” he offered, as she dusted her own suit off. “Nice to warm up before we hit the streets.”

“Yeah...” she whispered, watching him turn, heading off the mats so their night could truly begin. She was thinking she had to have been seeing things.

*

Dick spun the man around that tried to charge him, pinning his arms behind him and slamming him up against the wall. The motion was fluid, silent, and all Stephanie heard was the man’s groan, the impact of his weight into the wall.

Dick grinned, digging him against the rough brick, and it was the grin she had seen on his face earlier that evening- only, real. This wasn’t practice.

And she had seen it before, she was sure. Somewhere.

“He never used to be this terrifying,” one of the guys they had ambushed said, taking a step back. “Nightwing wasn’t scary.”

Well, Stephanie knew that was a lie. Nightwing was terrifying. But it was a different sort of terror. This was...well, it was unsettling for her too.

“Nightwing,” she called, as the other guy turned with his buddy, making off quickly, “Let him go. We scared ‘em. That was all we needed to do.” After all, sure, they’d been ready to ambush a few girls leaving one of the clubs up the street, probably take their purses- Stephanie always prayed that was it- and all they needed to do was remind them that it didn’t matter if their malintent wasn’t on the level of the Gotham Rogues, the family was there to defend Gotham from all harm.

Dick didn’t turn to look at her, but she saw his grin deepen, as he ground the guy against the brick again, one of his hands sinking into the man’s hair. When he pulled him back it was quick, turning his entire body and shoving the man to the ground. He landed on his back, staring up at Dick, and Stephanie could only imagine what he saw.

Those pretty eyes hidden by that mask. That grin. A face that was beautiful terror in all the right ways. It wasn’t a wonder to her that he scrambled to his feet and tore off in a run as fast as he could. She watched him go, before turning to Dick, hands resting on her hips.

“What was _that_?”

“What was what?” His smile had already returned to normal, and she was about to scream _that fucking horrorshow_ , but held her tongue when Tim and Damian dropped down from one of the neighboring buildings, heading over.

“Night going well?” Tim asked, walking over to Stephanie, who glanced over his shoulder, watched Damian approach Dick, reach a hand up to his chest, which Dick covered with his own, leaning in and pecking the teen’s lips affectionately.

“You notice anything different about them?” she asked, ignoring her question, and Tim glanced over his own shoulder, before shrugging.

“Huh? Well I guess. Damian is really picking up some of Dick’s bad habits. Late to patrol. You know I’ve caught him sitting on the counter eating cereal for dinner like, five times in the past two weeks. Five times Steph.”

Stephanie only half heard Tim. She watched as Dick’s mouth moved, obviously telling Damian something, and the teen’s mouth quirked up into a little smirk- the scary kind, the kind that meant someone was going to be hurting, and badly, very soon.

The kind that reminded her that Damian had assassin blood in him.

A moment later, and Dick had the same smirk on his face- and suddenly the terrifying way his lips had curled earlier made sense, and she knew where she’d seen that smile.

Damian. It was Damian’s smile.

“Might not only be Damian,” she whispered, not looking at Tim, her heart beating a little quicker in her chest. “Picking up bad habits. It might be mutual.”

Tim followed her gaze again, catching the last second of the couple’s shared smile, before it was gone.


	69. Sleep Talking (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [divianathewickling](http://divianathewickling.tumblr.com/) asked: "JayDick. “I understand the whole sleep talking thing but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.”“I understand the whole sleep talking thing but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.” with Dick as the sleep talker? :D"
> 
> I fucked up and for some reason thought Jason was supposed to be doing the sleep talking. Oops.

“Princess, get back.” The voice was mumbled, and Dick opened his eyes in the dark, rolling over to look at Jason, who was laying on his back, one arm thrown dramatically up to lay over his eyes. He could have shrugged it off, except a moment later, he heard, “That dragon is angry, princess.”

Dick bit his lip, trying to keep from laughing. Oh, too perfect. Jason was sleep talking, and narrating a dream, of all things. _Princess, huh?_

“Princess Dick,” he mumbled, shifting, arm falling from his face as he rolled onto his side, tugging on his own pillow. “No, dragon _bad_.”

_Princess Dick?_

Then, a moment later, “You’ll rip your gown, darlin’.” Dick sat up then, furrowing his brow and reaching over, shaking Jason’s shoulder. The younger man’s eyes shot open and he tensed, before glancing over at Dick. He relaxed when he realized there was no danger, and angrily grumbled, “What? I was trying to sleep.”

“I understand the whole sleep talking thing,” Dick started, folding his arms over his bare chest, “But what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream _and why I’m in it_.”

Jason stared up at him for a minute, before he grinned. “It’s simple, wonder boy,” he whispered, “I like the idea of you in a dress.”

Dick’s cheeks flushed as Jason chuckled, before rolling over, facing away from Dick.

“Try it sometime and maybe I won’t have to dream about you in a damn ball gown.” He tugged the blanket up, settling back in to go back to sleep, while Dick continued to stare at his back now, unsure what to do with the knowledge that his boyfriend apparently had been picturing him in dresses.

And he assumed, then, that this wasn’t the first dream where he was a _princess_.


	70. I'm Still Doing It! (Dick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [batsandfireworks](http://batsandfireworks.tumblr.com/) asked: "“So what if I broke my arm I’m still doing it.” - Dick right before leaping off the top of a building."

Dick leaned over the ledge of the building, looking down at the drop. Behind him, Tim was tense.

“You shouldn’t even be out here,” he pointed out, glancing at Dick’s arm, which was held up in a sling. “I mean, you can’t do much one handed.”

“Oh, I can do plenty!” Dick said, placing his free hand on his hip. He glanced back over the ledge, and Tim swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d promised Damian he’s keep an eye on the oldest Robin while on patrol tonight, and he could only imagine the world of hurt he’d be in if Dick did anything reckless.

“Let’s just get back to the street,” Tim called, “We can finish up on my bike. No need to travel by rooftop.”

“But Babybird, that’s the _fun_ way to go about it!” Dick threw his good arm out, before turning, staring back off the ledge. Tim knew that look on his face.

“Dick...please...your arm-”

“So what if I broke my arm?” Dick called, glancing back at Tim and grinning. “I’m still doing it!” Then, without hesitation, Dick threw himself off the ledge, free falling, and Tim bolted over, grabbing on and leaning over the edge, watching as Dick, single handedly, shot off a grappling hook- far too late if you asked Tim-, and swung himself down for a perfect landing.

Tim groaned, his stomach doing a flip. If Dick didn’t get himself hurt and Damian didn’t kill him by the end of the night, the sheer anxiety from patrolling with Dick would give him a heart attack and end him anyway.


	71. You're Alive?! (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon Asked: "“Who wouldn’t be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!” for dD maybe if you have time please??? Seems to be tailor made for Dick haha!"

Damian stared at the man sitting on the kitchen table, cereal bowl in hand, spoon in his mouth. Next to him, an empty cereal box was tipped over on the table.

Dick stared back at him, before lifting a single hand, waving slowly.

“You’re alive?” Damian asked, unable to do much more then gawk. Dick smiled sheepishly around his spoon, before plucking it from his mouth.

“Uh. Yeah. Long story there.” He spooned more cereal into his mouth, and Damian reached up, raking both hands through his short hair.

“You’re fucking alive?” This time, he yelled, and Dick sucked on his spoon, before nodding.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, around the object, before pulling it out again. “We just covered that. You’re angry?”

“Who wouldn’t be angry!” Damian yelled, throwing his arms out to his sides. “You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!” Dick smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry kiddo,” he offered, “I was starving. I haven’t eaten since like, yesterday morning. Oh, and talk to your dad about the whole fake-death thing. His idea.” He shoved the spoon into his mouth again and Damian stalked over, not sure if he wanted to punch the man or _kiss him_.

He settled for knocking the bowl out of his hands, spilling the contents all over the floor- the spoon following a moment later- and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him down for a kiss. Dick went tense, eyes wide, staring even as Damian pulled back.

“Uh,” he started, “You...kissed me?”

“You’re an idiot,” Damian muttered, before he pulled Dick in for another kiss. The older man relaxed for the second kiss, an arm hooking around Damian’s shoulders and keeping him close, and the teen decided the punch could wait a few minutes.


	72. Sleazy (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "“I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.“ -JayDick"

Dick stared at the mess that was his bedroom. He couldn’t fathom where all the glitter on the floor had come from- and _oh god, was it all over the sheets, too_?

Worse, possibly, was his boyfriend grinning at him from where he was reclining in the bed, beer bottle in hand-

And the hem of what was a ridiculously short black dress riding far too up his thighs.

“What in all hell,” he muttered- not that it could be heard over the music blasting from Jason’s laptop, across the room. Dick wondered if the people on the street could hear Kesha through the walls.

“Wonder boy!” Jason called, pushing himself up from the bed and rushing over, tossing one of his arms around Dick’s shoulders. “I’ve been waiting all night for you!” His words were slurred, and Dick was afraid to ask how many beers he’d had. Or how long he’d been waiting.

Or why he was in a dress. And where the hell the glitter had come from.

This close, he could see there was glitter on Jason’s eyelids, and along his cheek bones. The other man grinned, leaning in, pressing his face to Dick’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

“Uh...what’s going on?” Dick finally managed, even as Jason pressed his face to his neck, dragging his lips along his throat.

“It’s a party,” he whispered, “for you and me _wonder boy_.” He pressed his hips up against Dick’s thigh, rocking once to the obscene beat to the music.

“Where did all the glitter come from?” Jason shrugged a shoulder.

“Timmy said it could be fun,” he whispered, “fucking with all this glitter.”

“It’s a mess! Wait- oh my god you asked Tim about this?” Jason nodded, catching the corner of Dick’s mouth with his own.

“He said you’d _like it_.” Dick groaned, mentally making a note to throw Tim off a building the next time he was on patrol with him. Jason grabbed one of Dick’s hands, dragging it behind him, settling it just under the hem of the dress and forcing it to move up over the naked swell of his ass. “C’mon baby boy, let’s get a little _sleazy_ tonight.”

Dick choked. “I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.” Jason whined, mouth finding a spot just under Dick’s ear.

“But babe, you’re just going to tear ‘em off.” He grinned. “Unless you wanna shove ‘em to the side and fuck me with ‘em on.”

Dick sputtered, hand gripping onto Jason’s ass. “ _Fuck you_?” Jason nodded, kissing the corner of Dick’s mouth again.

“Yeah. Not up to it, wonder boy?” He kissed his mouth this time, wet and all eager tongue, and Dick tasted beer and tequila and knew Jason was going to be an utter mess in the morning.

And well- it seemed like an awful shame to waste such an opportunity. If his boyfriend was going to be miserable in the morning, he might as well make sure he was fairly happy now.

Even if Dick knew it meant he’d be finding glitter in the worst places for a solid week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kesha's "Sleazy" makes me think of Jason endlessly, and it _might_ have been on repeat the whole time I wrote this.


	73. Eyes to Yourself (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Can you do “So why did I have to punch that guy?” with Jason and Damian? Either one of them saying it would be hilarious so whoever you choose is obs up to you! I love your writing btw."

Jason spun around, giving a swift kick to one of the men, and knocking him back. On either side of him, Dick and Damian were handling their own men, with a practiced ease.

Suddenly, Jason heard Damian growl to him, “Knock him out!” Jason glanced at a man that was standing back, seemed more interested in watching then anything else, and shrugged a shoulder, running at him and delivering a hard punch to his face. The guy stumbled back, dropped the phone in his hand, falling to the ground completely unconscious. Jason kicked him, gently, noticed he didn’t have a gun holstered like the rest of the mob henchmen-

In fact, he looked like a regular guy.

“Why did I have to punch that guy?” he asked, turning as Damian stalked over. The teen crouch down, picking up the man’s phone, as behind them Dick was working to secure the fallen mobsters.

“Because,” Damian said, turning the man’s phone around. “He was staring at Dick.” The phone showed a somewhat blurry image of what was definitely a close up of Dick’s ass. Jason would know it anywhere.

Jason looked down at the guy, as Damian deleted the image, before the teen tossed the phone onto the guy’s chest. “Damian he was a _civilian_.” Jason wasn’t one to always play by the family’s rules- but well, he had no use for hurting innocent bystanders.  
“-tt- well, maybe he should have kept his eyes to himself.” The teen turned, tossing back, “No one oggles Grayson except _me_.”

Jason watched him head back over towards Dick, and wondered if the older man knew just how crazy his little boyfriend was.


	74. Present (Alfred)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [galigen](http://galigen.tumblr.com/) asked: "If you want, can you write something for “You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.” for Alfred Pennyworth and Alfred the cat! I immediately read the sentence prompt and thought of the two Alfreds :D"

Alfred frowned, glaring down at the small carcass left perfectly on his _nice and clean_ counter top. The small field mouse had it’s belly ripped open, innards spilling onto the counter.

Alfred had seen plenty of carnage, with his work down in the cave. He’d stitches up countless wounds, cleaned endless amounts of blood from suits and civilian clothes alike-

That didn’t mean he cared for dead mice, and dealing with their mess.

He grabbed a paper towel, hesitating over the carcass. As he did, there was movement through the doorway, and Alfred- the feline version- jumped up on the counter, sitting down and watching him, intrigued.

Alfred turned and stared at the cat, frowning. “You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen,” he warned, and the cat cocked his head, reaching up a paw and flexing it in the air, as if trying to knead it against something.

“There you are.” Alfred turned, watched as Damian walked into the room, towards the cat. “I’ve been looking for- oh. Did you do that Alfred?” He glanced from the mouse’s body to the cat, before reaching out and petting him behind the ears. “Good job.”

“Do not encourage this behavior,” Alfred warned, moving to remove the mouse again, and hesitating. Damian stared, quirking up an eyebrow, before he took the paper towel, scooping the body and its contents up without a second thought, and tossing it in the trash. Damian shook his head, scooping up the cat and letting him crawl partially up his shoulder.

“Please. It means he likes you, Pennyworth. It’s a present.” Damian turned then, walking towards the doorway, and Alfred watched as the cat eyed him until they had left the room.

A present. Alfred turned back to the counter, frowning. Yes, if having to disinfect the entire counter and remove the trash post-haste could be considered a present.

Perhaps he didn’t need to be loved by all of the family, after all.


	75. No Fly Zone (SuperBat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "“I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with you of all people.” with batman saying it to the rest of the justice league? creativity is wide open lol."
> 
> I narrowed it down because that's a lot of people, and I've been keeping these fills super short. Also the SuperBat is kinda implied even tho it's not really touched on.

Bruce frowned, openly glaring at Clark, who had his hands folded, leaning his elbows on his knees, looking at him with those stupid big blue eyes, a sheepish smile on his face.

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with you, of all people,” Bruce muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

“Is it worth it to say sorry?” Clark asked. “I mean, how was I supposed to know that a no fly zone meant literally _no flying_.”

“Perhaps when the authorities began to pursue us. Maybe that should have been a sign.”

“I didn’t hear you telling me to stop.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t _dragged me by my cape_ you would have heard my yelling over your childish laughter.” Clark blushed, glancing to the side, past the bars of the cell. They were a white-blue light, and Clark had learned, from experience right after they were thrown in, that they delivered an annoying shock when touched.

“Should have yelled louder,” he finally said, shrugging a shoulder, and Bruce felt his lip twitch.

He hoped Diana would hurry to bail them out. He was sure if he was left alone much longer, he would end up strangling the man across from him. And he didn’t really feel like explaining that to the league.


	76. Hit (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: ""Fuck i feel like i got hit by a car...." meme for jaytim?? If youd like :)"
> 
> Full listed prompt is: "FUCK I FEEL LIKE I GOT HIT BY A CAR… WAIT I DID? AND IT WAS YOUR CAR?”

Jason groaned, opening his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. His body ached- specifically around his abs, down along his hips, his right thigh. Slowly, he sat up, the sheet falling away, revealing bandages along his naked torso. He glanced around the room, as from two chairs by his said, Tim and Stephanie stood up, walking over.

“Look who woke up,” Stephanie said, smiling sweetly. “How you feelin’ hot shot?”

“Fuck,” Jason muttered, unable to remember anything prior to waking up. “I feel like I got hit by a car.” Next to him, Tim shifted uncomfortably, and Stephanie reached back, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Uh, well, you kind of did.” Jason stared at her for a minute, before glancing at Tim- and seeing the guilty look on his face.

“Wait...I did?” Both nodded. Still looking at Tim, Jason added, “ _And it was your car_?”

Tim hung his head, as Stephanie reached over, rubbed his back. “He didn’t mean it,” she offered, and Jason huffed.

“Well I’d hope. It’s not really common practice to run your damn boyfriend over.” Tim groaned, and Jason folded his arms- even though the action hurt. “Lemme guess, Red Bird is fine?”

“...I buffed the scratches from your armor out already.”

Wordlessly, Jason flopped back down into the pillows in defeat, staring up at the ceiling. Of course Tim had. He was pretty sure the boy loved that damn car more then anything else.

“I swear I made sure you were okay first!”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Jason muttered, waving his hand without bothering to look at the two. “Steph, tell my little boyfriend that he’s going to be taking care of my every need until these bruises are one hundred percent gone.” Stephanie glanced at Tim, before Jason continued, “And my first need is something to eat.”

“We should probably ask Alfred,” Stephanie started, “if it’s okay-”

“Either Tim takes his precious little car out to get me a damn cheeseburger, or he can sleep on the damn couch for the next _year_.”

Tim was rushing for the door before Stephanie could even realize, and she hurried after him, calling his name. Jason chuckled to himself, folding his arms back behind his head. Maybe it was a little cruel- and he knew that Tim would have been far more worried about him then that stupid car- but he couldn’t help but torment the boy a bit.  
He wouldn’t drag it on too long. Maybe a day or two- but surely not more then that. _Well, probably_.


	77. Arranged Marriage pt7 (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [fishfingersandjellybabies](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/) asked: "The “I’m sorry that I got way too into playing house and accidentally kissed you passionately.” Sounds near almost perfect for your arraigned marriage au! But only if you want to, of course~ <3"
> 
> I played with the prompt idea a bit to make it fit where we were in their current story line :3

“So how should I be acting around your mother?” Tim asked, as Damian was tugging his shirt on over his head. The smaller was sitting on Damian’s bed, rolling up the sleeves of his coral button-down. “Does Miss Talia want me affectionate or quiet and reserved?”

“Hell if I know,” Damian said, working the buttons along the chest of his cotton shirt. The ended right above his ribs. “Mother is hard to read.”

“And what about that _darling_ grandfather of yours?” Damian frowned, remembering the way Ras had acted towards Tim two evenings prior, at the charity event. Tim giggled. “Better question then, how affectionate should I be towards you?”

Damian’s frown turned to a smirk. “Oh, I don’t know. We want to be convincing, don’t we?”

“Of course, _darling_.” Tim stood up, reaching out and brushing Damian’s hand away, one finger tracing down the nice sliver of his copper chest his shirt left. “Perhaps they should see us, just like this.” Tim edged closer, tracing back up, along Damian’s collar bone, as the younger man reached a hand around his waist. “I think we would be convincing.”

“I don’t know,” Damian teased, “Perhaps we need to try _harder_.” Tim smirked, leaning closer, pressing up against one of Damian’s thighs, his other hand tracing the waist of his pants, up under his shirt.

“How hard?” he whispered, leaning up to ghost his lips along Damian’s jawline. Damian let his eyes fall shut for a moment, as Tim’s fingers traced the curves of the muscles in his abs.

“Oh,” he breathed, “ _Very_.” He paused for a moment, then, “If we can’t convince my own mother and grandfather, we’ll never convince the public.”

“Mmmm, you have a point.” Tim pulled his hand up from Damian’s collar bone, cupping one of his cheeks. The younger man could feel the cool metal of his wedding band. “Perhaps practice is in order.”

Damian smiled, before Tim leaned in, pressing his mouth against Damian’s. For the first moment, it was soft, slow- almost teasing, until Tim was tilting his head, letting Damian lean over him, lick into his mouth. Tim made a little sound, fingers dipping down past the waistband of his jeans, tugging to keep Damian close to him as both of Damian’s arms wrapped around him. He sucked on Damian’s tongue, before it was pulled away, and Damian nipped at his lower lip.

Tim’s hand went back into Damian’s hair, tugging, as Damian sucked on his lower lip, before breaking the kiss, shoving Tim a step back. He stumbled back onto the ledge of the bed, sitting, and then Damian had his knee between his thighs, his mouth on Tim’s again. The kisses were wet, quick and hard and desperate, and Tim gave another moan, grasping at Damian’s shoulders.

He could feel his blunt nails through the cotton.

Damian hissed, bit Tim’s lower lip, tugging gently, as he pressed his thigh right up into Tim’s groin, feeling him buck once against him. Another moan, and Tim was leaning back, staring up at him with pupils so small they were nothing but pinpricks. His cheeks had a flush to them, over those high cheek bones, and Damian could feel the fact that he was half-hard over the kiss.

“I think,” Tim whispered, “that that’ll be pretty convincing.”

Damian flushed as well, realizing perhaps they had taken practice a step too far. Then again, he wasn’t sure it was entirely practice, at this point. If anything, it simply served as a warm up for what they could enjoy after the dreaded lunch date with Damian’s family.

And Damian liked the potential it had.


	78. Playing House (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nuclidic](http://nuclidic.tumblr.com/) asked: "“I’m sorry that I got way too into playing house and accidentally kissed you passionately.” Tim/Kon?"

“Look how domestic you two are,” Cassie teased, leaning over the bar into the kitchen, watching as Tim worked the eggs he had in the pan, Kon rushing behind him towards waffle iron. “Making us all breakfast for dinner.”

“Kinda like a couple,” Bart added, hopping up on one of the stools next to where Cassie leaned. She grinned.

“Oh, definitely.”

“Funny,” Tim called, shaking his spatula at them without turning. Next to him, Kon was laughing.

“Like those married couples on all those strange evening shows,” he added. “Cassie, what are they called?”

“Sitcoms, Kon.” He nodded, and Tim rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, sure. Oh honey, make sure not to burn those waffles! We can’t have our kids hungry tonight!” He turned, clutching the spatula to him and batting his eyelashes at Kon. At the bar, Bart started laughing loudly. Kon grinned.

“Of course darlin’!” He tossed open the waffle maker, carefully removing the two to a plate, before sloshing more batter on. Tim leaned against the counter.

“Leave it to my man to take care of our babies!” Bart lost himself then, flopping down on the counter and cackling, as Cassie snickered.

“I guess they’re our parents now,” She said, elbowing Bart, who nodded, trying to wipe tears from his eyes.

Kon grinned reaching out and brushing some of Tim’s hair back, tucking it carefully behind one ear. “Anything for the family.”

“You’re too good to us.” Tim was smiling, and Bart and Cassie were both laughing still- until Tim leaned in, pressing his mouth up against Kon’s. Bart choked on his laughter and Cassie’s eyes went wide- both staring more as Kon simply wrapped an arm around Tim’s waist, pulling him in closer. He leaned the smaller man back, slightly, and Tim wrapped his arms around his neck, keeping them flush together as he licked at the seam of Kon’s mouth.

“Woah,” Bart whispered, “They uh…they got into it.”

Cassie nodded, before clearing her throat. Tim pulled back from Kon, staring up at him- before his cheeks went the deepest pink she had ever seen, and he scrambled out of the other boy’s hold. Kon stared at him, barely blushing at all, as Tim shifted uncomfortably.

“Convincing enough?” he asked, turning to stare at Cassie and Bart, trying to play off his blush. Bart nodded.

“Totally. Maybe you missed your call, for acting or something.” Tim chuckled nervously, reaching up to wipe his mouth with his hand. Instead, his fingers hesitated against his lips, as Kon stared at the subtle movement.

Cassie smirked. She’d had her own theories about the two, but this had solidified it. She was sure that Tim was crushing hard, and that Kon seemed to have his own unacknowledged feelings and attractions.

Oh, this was perfect. She wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away.


	79. Animal Whisperer (Jay&Dami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "“Quick catch that cat it stole my wallet!” with damian "catching" (the cat walking right up to him) the cat and jason having his wallet stolen?"
> 
> Marked with the "&" because it's not really a ship here, just the two of them interacting.

Jason gritted his teeth around his cigarette, straightening his leather jacket. Next to him, Damian was adjusting his gloves. Around them, there were a number of clown-faced men, left unconscious.

“Call it in?” Damian asked, as Jason shrugged a shoulder, patting his pockets and looking for his lighter. It had been a long night, and he felt as if ever muscle in his body was a tight wire.

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute- where the fuck is my lighter?” He shook his jacket, his wallet flopping out, landing a few steps away. Jason groaned, went to reach for it, when a gray tabby cat jumped out from the shadows, grabbing it between its teeth and turning, running to climb up on one of the unconscious bodies. “Fucking hell,” Jason cursed, plucking his unlit cigarette from his mouth and shoving it in his pocket. “Catch that damn cat!”

Next to him, Damian rolled his eyes, taking a few steps towards the animal- stepping over one unconscious body- before he crouched down, holding his hand out. The cat looked at Jason, then at Damian- and a moment later hopped off the body, happily walking over to Damian. It rubbed against his boot, and Damian took the wallet, holding it up. Jason plucked it from his hand, shoving it back into his jacket, as Damian stroked the cat’s back, watching it arch happily.

“Stupid animal,” Jason muttered, putting his unlit cigarette back in my mouth. Damian rolled his eyes, lifting up the cat and holding it against his chest. It happily kneaded at his tunic.

“You’re coming home with me,” he said, and Jason rolled his eyes.

“B isn’t going to go for another animal in that zoo you call a home.” Damian ignored him, leaning in, and the cat nuzzled his chin happily, leaning up and licking the tip of his nose with her sandpaper tongue. Jason stared, as Damian smiled like a child.

“You need a name.”

Jason huffed. He’d never understand how the damn kid was an animal whisperer. And where the hell was his lighter? With his luck, a damn dog would show up next with it between it’s teeth.


	80. Lick Him to Death (Bruce&Jim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "“Please stop petting the test subjects. ” Batman (Bruce) petting and Commissioner Gordon as the one who said it? Because I choose to believe that presented with the opportunity to pet an animal, Bruce would take it without remorse or embarrassment."
> 
> Again, the "&" means it's not a ship, just the two characters :3

“We don’t know how the toxins will affect them,” Jim said, pulling his glasses off and cleaning the lenses on his jacket. “There’s seven dogs in all. We don’t entirely know what the Joker and Harley might have been lacing their food with- if anything at all. Never know with those two.” He was facing a hanging clipboard in the kennel, looking at the list of blood work for one of the dogs. “They might be fine, but before we think of putting them up for adoption, we need to monitor them. Run some tests.”

He turned around, expected Batman to be standing behind him, probably reading over his shoulder. Instead, he found he had left himself into the large kennel with the dogs, was down on one knee scratching one behind the ears as they others surrounded him. Two were tugging on his cape, while another tried to nudge up under his arm, trying for his attention.

Jim reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Batman,” he started, slowly, “Please stop petting the test subjects.” Bruce lifted his head, looked at him, and Jim settled his glasses back on. “We have no idea if they’ve been drugged. They might go feral, attack you.”

Bruce said nothing, and a moment later the dog that had been nudging up under his arm squirmed in, leaning up and licking his chin. Bruce laughed, wrapping an arm around the dog as it leaned all its body weight against him- and then all the dogs were following, pushing at Bruce until he fell back, sprawling on the floor as they crawled over him, licking at his face, even his suit.

Jim sighed, heard Batman chuckling, and shook his head.

“I might have a place for them,” Bruce said, thinking perhaps Titus needed some company, back at the Manor. And he could always explain to Alfred that he thought Damian needed to lesson in responsibility- caring for all these dogs.

The fact that he wanted them for himself, well, the family didn’t need to know that.


	81. Kittens! (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [sakura-tamiko](http://sakura-tamiko.tumblr.com/) said: "Of course he has to smile if Grayson is covered by kittens! Imagine the first time it happens!"
> 
> This was in relation to my tags on a post of Damian smiling. Probably at Dick covered in kittens.

Damian tapped his fingers on the table, leaning his chin on his palm. Sitting on the floor of the dining room, Dick was watching a group of kittens as they awkwardly waddled around. Damian had found a rather fat cat on Patrol a while back, had convinced his father to let him keep her-

Turned out, she wasn’t fat, but pregnant. And now, they had five additional little felines. Which Bruce was adamant they were not keeping.

Dick reached out to one, wiggling his finger, and the little thing batted at it, while another crawled into his lap. A moment later, and all of them were following suit, walking with poor balance along his legs, heads butting into his belly. Dick laughed, falling backwards so he lay on his back, as they crawled up onto him, a loud chorus of loud meows.

Damian smiled, staring fondly at the man, thinking to himself that Grayson was nothing but a large child at times. That he had no right being as _cute_ as he was- even if Damian refused to say such thoughts aloud. But he was laughing, lifting one of the kittens up and holding it in the air as its little legs squirmed. Damian didn’t blame the kittens one bit for wanting to settle right on him. He knew from experience that he was warm, far too easy to fall asleep against.

“What are _you_ smiling at?” Damian glanced towards the voice, saw Tim standing with his arms folded, an eyebrow quirked up. Damian’s cheeks flushed and he scowled, glancing away.

“Nothing,” was all he offered, staring out the large glass doors that led to the deck, the back of the Manor. Tim frowned, following where his gaze had been, seeing Dick sprawled on the floor, covered in kittens.

He laughed openly, pulling his phone from his pocket and snapping a picture, before moving, getting another. Dick grinned up at him, yelling something at him, before one of the kittens waddled across his chest, flopping right onto his cheek and nose. Tim laughed, loudly and breathy, almost doubling over as he snapped another picture.

From the corner of his eyes, Damian was watching. Watching and fighting to suppress a smile. He didn’t want Tim to catch him again, didn’t want his step-brother to let on to Dick that Damian had been watching, had been staring like that.

The last thing he needed was Dick catching onto his little crush.

Tim finally walked back over, plopping down in a chair next to Damian, elbowing him. Damian jostled a little, glancing at him with his typical frown. Tim just smiled.

“I think Dick’s really a giant kitten,” Tim said, and Damian rolled his eyes.

“That is an idiotic statement, Drake.” Tim’s smile only grew.

“Uh-huh. Well, these pictures prove he’s just as cute as one.” He held his phone up, and Damian glanced at one- at Dick laughing, eyes nearly shut, looking so much younger, looking _happy_.

He smiled again, without meaning to. And next to him, Tim’s smile was far too knowing.

“So...want me to send these to you?” Damian’s smile disappeared, and he clicked his tongue, saying nothing as he looked away, back outside. But a moment later, as Tim was texting them all to him, he dared another glance at Dick, who had managed to roll onto his side, had a kitten sitting up against his forehead, batting at his bangs. Around it’s little body, he glanced at Damian, and smiled at him- that warm, happy smile. The kind that had Damian feel like his insides were melting.

He smiled back, and next to him, Tim saw it all.


	82. Animal Instinct (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "Damian seeing one of those "if your cat (or) dog doesn't like him, he's not the one" posts and just kinda, stares at the screen all deadpan, thinking about how all his pets likes Dick, "he's the one" the conclusion (it's so late here I should stop)"

Don’t ever stop you bring me the best ideas ever oh boy

Damian scoffed, and from the other end of the couch, Tim glanced up from his laptop. “What now?”

“The sheer amount of relationship blathering online is...sickening.” Tim rolled his eyes, leaning around his laptop, trying to peer at Damian’s tablet.

“What’s it say?”

The teen rolled his eyes. “ _If your dog or cat likes him, he’s a keeper_!” Tim laughed, settling back in against the arm of the couch.

“That’s not the worst advice. Animals are a good judge of character- usually.” Damian frowned, looking back at the tablet, then glancing up, at Titus, who was lounging on the rug, half asleep.

He was about to point out how utterly stupid the whole idea was, to let an animal judge your own relationship, when from the front of the Manor, he heard the door opening, closing, a familiar voice calling out.

Without looking up, Tim yelled, “In here, Dick!”

A moment later the oldest Robin appeared, all smiles. Before Damian or Tim could even greet him, Titus had lumbered up from his spot, hurrying over to Dick and leaning his entire body weight happily against his side.

“ _Ooof_! Hello to you too Titus!” He reached down, scratched the dog behind his ears, and Titus’s tongue lolled out happily.

Damian watched, peering over the back of the couch, thinking Titus was always like this when Dick was around. He greeted him before anyone else. He followed the man happily around the Manor. He’d make a point to lay near his feet- and if given the choice, he always brought his toys to Dick to play, before anyone else.

Damian was possibly the only exception. And sometimes, he wasn’t so sure about that.

Come to think of it- Alfred was similar. When the cat made his appearances around Dick, he’d rub up against his arm, or slink between his legs. Damian couldn’t even count the number of times the cat had curled up on Dick’s lap and gone to sleep, as if the rest of the world didn’t matter.

Damian felt color rising to his cheeks, and he settled back into his spot, slouching low and trying to hide behind his tablet. Across from him, Tim noticed, and quirked up an eyebrow, before leaning partially over the arm, glancing at Dick.

He was still petting Titus, who showed no intent to leave the man alone anytime soon. Tim pulled himself back up, glancing around his laptop at Damian, who was making a very obvious point not to look up.

Tim smiled to himself, stretching his foot out and knocking it against Damian’s legs. The teen glanced up at him, and quietly, Tim whispered, “Still think it’s stupid?”

Damian’s cheeks flushed more, and he pulled his hood up, pouting. Tim could only laugh- one of these days, the kid would come clean about his crush. But until then, Tim was going to have as much fun as possible poking and prodding him over it.


	83. Sketches (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "But please consider Dick finding an old sketchbook (accidently) and it's filled with drawings and sketches of him, bonus points if it's from Damian's early teen years and it's filled with half naked sketches of Dick changing from his suit etc"

*chokes* you wicked genius!

“Little D!” Dick called, tossing open the teen’s door, “Up for-” he cut off, when he realized the boy’s room was empty. He frowned, glancing about, before sighing.

“Master Richard?” He turned, smiled at Alfred, who was walking with a small bucket of cleaning supplies out from one of the studies. “Are you looking for Master Damian.”

“Yeah.”

“He took Titus for a run about twenty minutes ago. I assume he will return soon.”

Dick sighed again. Oh. “Guess I’ll just...wait for him.” Alfred gave him a smile and a nod, continuing on to his next project.

Dick considered heading downstairs to wait, then shrugged it off and walked into Damian’s room. He’d left his bed littered with sketch books, pencils, and Dick smiled to himself, walking over, picking one book up. It was fairly recent, and as he flipped through he saw a number of sketches of both Titus and Alfred- birds that he must have been watching for outside the Manor. Wild life. Typical.

Dick set it back down, picking up another one. This one had pictures taped in it, taken from magazines that Dick was fairly sure Damian had probably stolen from Stephanie. Realism practice- half started portraits, sometimes just a page of lips, eyes.

Smiling, he set that one down as well. It was nice to see Damian expressing himself somehow, aside of on the streets. Good for him, Dick was sure.

He walked away from the bed, towards one of Damian’s book shelves, running his fingers along the spins of other, older sketchbooks. He was sure he shouldn’t- he’d already pried enough- but Damian so seldom showed him anything he worked on, and Dick could admit he was curious.

He plucked one from the shelf, flipping open, finding a sketch of his old Robin costume, settled in its case in the cave. He grinned, flipping the page- one of his Nightwing suit, as well, the old one that was almost an embarrassment, if Dick wasn’t so sure he had worn it _so damn well_.

He skipped a few pages, settling towards the middle- and then nearly dropping the sketchbook. Dick’s eyes went wide, looking at the figure leaning back against a counter, a table- anything, it wasn’t detailed- the figure with the top of his suit pooled around his waist, his mask still on.

It was him. Dick was half naked in Damian’s sketchbook.

Had to just be practice, he was sure. Maybe Damian had seen something in the way Dick had carried himself. He flipped to the next page- choking even more. Another sketch of him- in full suit, back turned completely. Damian had spent an obviously lengthy amount of time detailing his ass.

Dick kept flipping through, but didn’t find anything better. Half naked, suit pooled around his waist, or in workout clothing. What stopped him though, had him actually drop the book, was one of him after what must have been a shower. The towel he was holding, rubbing along his neck, barely fell as any sort of censor.

Dick leaned back against the book shelf, covering his mouth. These were older, he could tell. Damian had skill when he was younger, but it had gotten progressively even better over time. These were probably a few years old.

He was probably fifteen, maybe sixteen. _Oh god_.

Dick was sure he’d pulled a lot of those from memory. Which meant he had been watching Dick enough to notice all those details. And god, how many times had Dick been half naked- or worse- around him, without a thought or care?

 _Oh god_.

He bent over, picked up the sketch book and quickly shoved it back into place. What was he supposed to do about that? What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to look Damian in the face, knowing he’d laid around who knows when- what, in the dead of night, when he could have been sleeping?- and had thought of Dick half naked- or worse- and sketched out those fantasies?

 _Fantasies_.

Dick scrubbed both his hands up over his face, groaning. God, had Damian been fantasizing about him? All this time? Had it stopped? Was it still happening?

Had he-

“Grayson?”

Dick pulled his hands form his face, looked towards the door. Damian was standing there, his tshirt pulled off his body, tossed over one shoulder, running shorts an inch too low on his hips.

“What are you doing?”

Dick swallowed thickly as the teen walked in, glancing past Dick, at the sketchbook he had shoved back, haphazardly. It was pushed out further then the others. Without even needing to open it, Damian grinned at him.

“Poking around like a naughty child, Grayson?”

Oh, Damian definitely hadn’t just called _him_ a naughty child.  
“I-”

Damian shook his head, _tsk’d_. “If you’d wanted to see, all you had to do was ask.” He turned, walking away from Dick, towards his private bathroom. He paused at the door, glancing back at him. “I could use a good model again, Grayson. I think it’s been too long since I indulged.”

He walked in, closing the door after that, and Dick felt his knees almost giving out. Had Damian- he- and-

Dick was in some serious trouble, if the ache in his groin was any indication- or the wickedness in Damian’s eyes. He closed his eyes, shaking his head, trying to tell himself this was crazy, this was _Damian_ -

And well, it definitely was Damian, as Dick had seen, watching the boy walk around half naked himself. He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Oh, he was utterly fucked.


	84. Couples Shirts (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Can u imagine dick trying to get damian into those laaame but kinda funny couple t-shirts? The "if lost return to dick grayson" and "im dick grayson" or "im dick fucking grayson" and damis "im fucking dick grayson" match? Its cracking me up"

You Anon just earned yourself a ficlet!

“Just open the damn bag,” Dick said, watching as Damian shifted it around in his lap, where he sat cross legged on the couch.

“There is not occasion for a gift,” he pointed out, “it’s not my birthday, or-”

“ _Damian please_!” The teen sighed, opening the plastic bag and pulling two tshirts out. He flipped one over, frowning as he read, “I’m Dick fucking Grayson?”

“That’s mine. Now look at yours.”

Damian flipped the other one over, reading it, his cheeks tinging pink. “Grayson, you cannot be serious.”

“I’m fucking Dick Grayson!” Dick chanted, grinning. “C’mon babybat, it’ll be hilarious!”

“There is no way I’m- hey!” Dick reached forward, grabbing his own shirt and tugging his current tshirt off, letting it fall to the floor. He tugged it on, resting his hands on his hips.

“Humor me, little D.”

“Not in any circle of hell, Grayson.” Dick frowned, before he stalked back over to Damian, grabbing his shirt and hiking it up. The teen jerked back, awkwardly leaning against the arm of the couch, as his tshirt pooled around his collar bone. “Grayson!”

“Lift your arms up kiddo!”

“I swear to all things you hold holy Grayson _I will end you_!” He squirmed, pushing at Dick, who kept his hold on Damian’s shirt, tossed the other one up onto the back of the couch for easy access.

He was still fighting with him when Bruce walked into the doorway, asking, “Damian? Dick? Is everything-” he paused, glancing at the two, Damian still pressed into the arm of the couch, shirt nearly off, and Dick leaning over him, tugging on it. “Alright...”

“Father,” Damian started, shoving at Dick, who stood back. Bruce glanced at his shirt, before noticing the one on the back of the couch.

He grimaced. “Dick I swear.”

“I thought it was _funny_!” He threw his arms out. “You guys have literally no sense of humor.”

Damian huffed, and Bruce reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just keep these...activities behind closed doors. For my sanity, _please_.” Dick and Damian both opened their mouths, as if to explain that it wasn’t what it looked like, and Bruce just waved them off, muttering something about a migraine and turning from the room.

Dick let his arms fall to his sides, glancing at Damian, who still had his shirt scrunched up. The teen looked at him, frowning. “What?”

“...You’re hot.” Damian huffed, flopping back along the couch, and Dick grinned, leaning back over him, one hand clutching the back cushion of the couch as he pressed his mouth to the hollow beneath Damian’s ribs.

“Grayson-”

“He won’t be back,” Dick offered, kissing a little lower. “You know that. And I mean, you’re already half undressed.” Damian rolled his eyes, before exhaling,

“Fine. But I’m not putting the damn shirt on after.”

Dick grinned. Oh, he wasn’t so sure about that.


	85. Sketches pt2 (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "OMG. Sketches. I know prompts are closed and everything. But if you ever feel the need I will be eternally grateful if there was a sequel. Dick is so fucked."

Dick should have left. He should have walked right out of Damian’s room, taken himself home. He could’ve texted the kid, told him they needed to talk about what he saw.

Instead, he settled himself on the edge of Damian’s bed and _waited_.

The teen’s shower didn’t take long, and a few minutes later the door opened and he stepped out- _completely naked_. Except for his towel.

And Dick was sure, he should have left.

He swallowed, tried to tell himself this was just Damian. Just don’t look at him like that. It couldn’t be that hard?

“Listen...those...” Dick started, and Damian walked over, the slightest sway to his hips. He inserted himself directly between Dick’s thighs, looking down at him.

“Those sketches were all of you.”

Dick felt like his throat was closing in. “How...how old were you?”

“Fifteen. Sixteen.”

“And you were-”

“Looking at you? Of course I was, Grayson. I thought it was rather obvious, honestly.” He clicked his tongue. “I guess I should have known you would’ve been too dense to realize it.”

Dick frowned. “Sorry that I didn’t think my _baby brother_ would decide to draw me half naked.”

Damian hummed, tilting his head. Dick watched as a single drop of water made its way down his neck. “Do you think that was all I did?”

This time, Dick made a small, broken whine, and Damian’s grin was so smug, so cocky it was almost sickening.

“Do you want to know what I did, Grayson?”

Dick should have been up and out the door. He should have told Damian to stop, that this was enough. Joke’s over, not funny anymore.

Instead, he simply sat there, as if he was mute, staring up at the teen.

“I used to stretch out in the afternoon on my bed,” he started, “And sketch you from memory. There are plenty of moments that were so perfect, Grayson. You seemed to have a...fondness for lacking clothing around me.” Damian smirked. “I’d sketch you for as long as I could stand, until it hurt to lay on my belly, to think of you in such ways.”

Dick sucked on his lower lip. His cock was aching already- and god, _what was wrong with him_? This shouldn’t have been turning him on. _This was Damian_.

“Then,” Damian whispered, reaching a hand out, letting it run along Dick’s shoulder, off his sleeve and onto his bicep. Damian’s fingers were warm, damp. “When I knew everyone was occupied- gone, or indulging in an afternoon nap, I’d roll onto my belly and touch myself. To you, Grayson.”

Dick gasped, and Damian leaned in, taking advantage and pressing his mouth to Dick’s. The older man went tense, thought he should push him off, put a stop to this before he could regret it-

Oh, but he already did.

And when he reached for Damian, his hands went to his hips, feeling the towel press against his palms as he gripped him. Damian smiled against his mouth, licked at the seam of his lips until Dick was opening up for him.

Damian’s tongue was warm, and the boy was rough with it, pressing along Dick’s, feeling the shapes of his teeth, the hollows of his cheeks. Dick made another little sound, as Damian reached down, brushing one of his hands off his hips. He gripped the towel, freeing its loose hold and letting it fall, to pool around his feet. Then, grabbing Dick’s hand again, Damian guided it directly to his cock, until Dick had him in hand.

Crazy. Insane. Dick knew this was asinine, but he couldn’t stop. Damian tasted too damn good, felt so damn desperate- and something about the fact that he was that turned on over Dick just blew his mind.

Dick didn’t need Damian’s hand to guide him here. He hooked his arm around the teen’s waist instead, keeping him close as he stroked- fast, firm but not overly hard. Damian broke the kiss to whine, to let his head drop down against Dick’s shoulder.

“Did you work yourself up in the shower?” Dick whispered, dragging his thumb over the head of Damian’s cock.

A moan. “No.” Dick smirked.

“Then this is all for me?” Damian tried to nod, bit at his lip to keep quiet, and Dick felt his own cock straining, leaking beneath his jeans and underwear. He didn’t care. Suddenly, he didn’t care about anything- except that Damian was hurtling towards an orgasm and _he was entirely to blame_.

Dick sucked on his own tongue as Damian began muttering his name, hips thrusting with each stroke. He knew the signs, the catching of his breath, the break in his name- _Gray-son_ \- and Dick’s eyes rolled back for a moment as Damian came, over his knuckles, splashing his wrist.

The teen sagged against him for a moment, panting, and Dick tried to calm his own breathing. But when Damian pulled back, straightening up to stare down at him with eyes wicked as the devil, it was hard to even remember how to breathe.

“Can I,” he started, glancing down at Dick’s lap, and the older man blushed.

“Uh. I uh...might have...” he glanced away, and Damian chuckled. “When you did.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to wait.” He reached out, pushed Dick at his shoulders, sent him falling back onto the bed. Damian crawled onto it, straddling one of his thighs. “Fifteen, twenty minutes. I wonder what we can accomplish in that time.”

Dick was sure, in that moment, that he had the devil himself in his lap.


	86. Couples Shirts pt2 (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "Imagine Damian in the shirts ficlet, after a heated sex, Dick would dress that shirt on him and it feels good bc it's big & clean & soft, Damian is all naked expect for it and he's flushed and dizzy and just.. Dick will get hard again tbh"

Damian was limp, laying back against his pillows, panting. Dick grinned, pushing himself up off the bed, as Damian closed his eyes.

“Grayson...back,” he murmured, and Dick chuckled.

“Holy on babybat. I don’t want you to get cold.” He grabbed the plastic bag off the floor, pulling out the tshirt Damian had, earlier, been so vehemently against, and crawled back onto the bed. He reached for the teen, pulling him up, and Damian slouched against his chest. “C’mon babe, arms up. You’ll thank me when you’re not freezing.”

Damian huffed, took the shirt without much thought and slid into it, before promptly falling back against the pillows. He closed his eyes, cheeks and neck flushed, trying to keep the room from spinning.

“How many,” he paused, swallowing, his throat aching, voice hoarse. “How many times was that?”

Dick grinned, reaching out and brushing his hair back off his forehead. “Three, I think. Did I miss one?” Damian made a little noise.

“I may not,” he paused, having to give his throat a moment, “talk properly for a week.”

Dick chuckled. “You did scream a lot, Dami. I wouldn’t be too shocked if the whole Manor heard us.” Damian huffed, and Dick shrugged. Hey, he’d listened to Bruce. He’d made a point of getting Damian up to his room before doing anything.

Besides teasing him a little, anyway.

Dick glanced down, eyes running along Damian’s frame. The tshirt was long on him, a little big, dusted his copper thighs. Dick stared at them, for a moment, remembering how they had trembled, under his hands, around his waist-

He shifted, feeling his cock throb. He chewed on his lip for a moment, before leaning down over Damian, kissing his heated cheek, nudging his chin up to place his mouth to his throat. He sucked, until the boy whined, until he had left yet another bruise on his neck, one of his hands reaching out, tracing up one thigh, stopping when he hit the tshirt.

“Wanna make it four?” he whispered, and Damian huffed, opening his eyes.

“You cannot be serious Grayson.” Dick chuckled, licked the sensitive flesh he’d just bruised.

“Oh but I am. C’mon little prince, you’re the teenager here. Don’t tell me I can out fuck you.” Damian flushed, rolling over onto his side away from Dick, grabbing his pillow and pressing his face into it.

“You want me dead,” he accused, followed by, “Just do it yourself.”

Dick rolled his eyes, leaning in, kissing the back of Damian’s neck. He reached down, dragging his fingers up the back of Damian’s thighs, dipping them up under the tshirt. Damian gasped, rolling onto his belly and allowing Dick to push his fingers up against his slick hole, two sliding inside easily. The tshirt pushed up, to the small of his back, as Damian raised his hips, pushing towards Dick’s fingers.

“Still not interested?”

Damian groaned, already feeling too hot, dizzy still. But he couldn’t deny that the moment Dick’s fingers were inside him, he wanted more.

“Fuck you, Grayson,” he muttered, even as he lifted his ass higher, spread his thighs and allowed Dick to thrust into him faster.

Dick chuckled. “You like it more when I fuck _you_ , Dami.” The teen flushed, squeezed his eyes shut- had no retort, because it was the truth.


	87. Single Dad AU pt6 (BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rehmylebeau](http://rehmylebeau.tumblr.com/) asked: "yooo i just read the entirety of your single dad au in one sitting w/o moving a muscle and im so in love!!! srsly everyone's so perfect and i loved the bit of jaytim in there! also dick is so precious i feel like bruce's thought process the whole time was "jfc he's so cute." any chance of one w/ bruce's pov? i'd love to know what he's thinking whenever dick turns him down in favor of taking it slow"

Bruce felt the ghost of Dick’s kiss the entire drive home. It was still there, as he walked into the Manor, locking the door behind him. From the kitchen, he heard Alfred rummaging around. He made his way in, found Alfred was brewing tea.

“Welcome home, sir,” he offered with a smile. Then, “Do we have company for the evening?”

“No,” Bruce admitted, his voice dropping slightly. “Not tonight.” Alfred nodded.

“I will have some tea ready momentarily, if you are interested.”

“Thanks Alfred. I’d love some. I’m just going to go check on Damian.” Another nod, and Bruce turned, made his way upstairs. He cracked open the boy’s door, slipping in and walking over towards his bed. He was curled around his large plush bat, blanket half tossed off his little body. Bruce smiled, reaching down and grabbing the blanket, tucking it up over his shoulders.

Damian stirred, little eyes opening, looking up. “Dad-dy?” Bruce smiled, stroking his short hair back.

“Hey kiddo. Go back to sleep.” Damian pressed his face into his bat, then,

“Dee?” Bruce’s smile fell away, and he shook his head.

“No. Dick’s at home.” Damian pulled away from his bat, pouting.

“Why?”

Bruce sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Because that’s where he lives. He wanted to sleep there tonight.”

“Why?”

Bruce really had no answer for that, and it made his chest ache, slightly. But he forced a smile for Damian. “Because he has friends there. I’m sure he misses them when he’s here.” Damian said nothing, and Bruce leaned over, kissing his temple. “Now back to sleep with you.”

He tucked the blanket more around Damian, who snuggled his bat again, drifting back to sleep in minutes. Bruce stayed, stroking his little back until his breathing was even. When he was sure he was sleeping, he pulled back, standing up and slipping back out of the room.

He found Alfred had settled into one of the sitting rooms with the tea. He was already sipping his cup when Bruce entered, picking up his own and sinking back into one of the chairs.

“Did you have a pleasant evening, Master Bruce?”

Bruce nodded. “It was nice.” He took a sip, and Alfred frowned.  
“Forgive me, sir. It’s not my place to pry- but you seem less then thrilled. Is everything alright?”

Bruce hesitated, then, “Is he interested in me, Alfred?”

This gave the older man pause. Alfred held his cup down against his lap. “Well sir, I’m afraid I cannot speak for your friend’s interests. But from what I can tell, he seems to quite enjoy your company.”

“He wouldn’t come home with me.” Bruce reached up, scrubbing a hand up over his face. “I thought he would. I thought he might...jump on the offer.” Bruce sighed. “I’m sorry Alfred, you don’t need to hear this.”

“On the contrary, Master Bruce. I’ve watched you grow since you were a small boy- were I not present for your romantic endeavors, I would feel I was missing something. Perhaps,” he lifted his cup, “Master Richard is simply moving at a different pace then you.” He took a sip, and Bruce cast his eyes down.

“Is it selfish to wish he wasn’t?”

“Yes. And natural. Perhaps you and he should have a small talk, sir. About what you both would like to come of this.”

Bruce stared down at his untouched tea. “That would mean I’d have to know the answer to that, Alfred.”  
The older man smiled. “Well then, perhaps instead of dwelling on your doubt, you should be thinking on that question.” He took another sip. “And when you have the answer, perhaps declaring your own...intentions will help Master Richard with his own hesitations.”

Bruce smiled, weakly, lifting his cup and taking a sip. Maybe Alfred had a point. How could he be disappointed, if he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to come of this?

Perhaps the problem was that, deep down in his gut, he _did_ know. He knew, and it was unxpected, startling. And terrifying the think that perhaps Dick would want something different.


	88. Single Dad AU pt7 (BruceDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "ever since I read that part in the brudick single dad AU about dick visiting his office anytime he liked I've been dying for a part like that added to the story ♡ thank you so much for dedicating so much of your time into writing"

Dick shifted his bag over his shoulder, staring up at the imposing Wayne Enterprises building. It felt like it was endless, traveled all the way up through the atmosphere.

He was stalling, if he was honest. Had been, for a good ten minutes. He’d gotten off the bus, wondered around the block, stared at the building- done it again. He shouldn’t be so worried- Bruce had said to stop by, anytime.

That had been three days ago. Dick had gone three days without seeing him. Sure, he’d texted him- but yesterday Bruce had had a string of meetings, and Dick had barely heard anything from him.

Granted, he had no reason to think Bruce wasn’t in one now- but well, he just had hope.

Truth be told, he’d missed him, a lot. He’d taken the few days to try and piece himself together. To figure out what he was doing, what he wanted-

He’d just needed some time to think. This had all happened so quickly, Dick had barely been able to digest any of it.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to walk into the building. He made his way to the elevator, glancing at the massive directory- and then hitting the correct floor button. He felt entirely underdressed in jeans and his tshirt, his open blue plaid button down.

He shifted slightly, until the doors opened, and he followed a few people out. He glanced around, before walking up to the center desk, where a middle aged woman sat.

“Excuse me,” he started, and she glanced up. “I’m here to see Bruce.”

“What time is your appointment?” she asked, turning to her screen. Dick hesitated.

“I uh…I don’t have one. I’m a…friend of his.” She frowned, pulling her glasses off and cleaning examining them in the light.

“You can’t see him without an appointment.”

Dick frowned, blushing a little. “Is he in a meeting? I can be quick-”

“Mr. Wayne is a very busy man. He’s running one of the top companies in this _country_. He cannot simply see anyone who walks off the street asking for him.”

Dick bit his cheek, looking away. Okay, she had a point. And it was _stupid_ to just drop by, to think Bruce would just magically be able to see him. He should have called first-

“Dick?”

Dick glanced up, watched as Bruce stepped out of his office, closing the door behind him, walking over towards the desk. “Hi Bruce.”

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I’m sorry. I just…was around, and thought I might stop by and say hi. I…realize that was pretty dumb.” He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck, and Bruce smiled.

“Nonsense. You have perfect timing. I have a meeting in an hour and a half, I was just stepping out for lunch. Would you join me?” Dick stared, nodding slowly, and Bruce’s smile grew.

*

“I’ve missed you,” Bruce offered from across the table. Dick smiled, toying with his fork over the strange salad he’d let Bruce order him.

Someday, he vowed he would go somewhere where the other man didn’t have the order their food.

“I missed you too,” Dick admitted, feeling that nervous tension in his belly. He felt like he wanted to say a thousand things, in that moment. Like he wanted to apologize for stepping back- but damn, he was scared. Terrified, if he was honest.

He hadn’t been in a relationship since Barbara, and whether this was heading towards that or not, intimacy itself was startling, foreign.

“Damian has asked about you every day.” Dick laughed at that.

“I’ve missed him too.” He worked a forkful of the salad into his mouth, shocked at how tangy the dressing was. But it was good. “Has work been alright?”

“Busy. There’s a company in France who wants to work out a deal with us, and it’s thrown a sudden storm of meetings and paperwork into my lap.” Bruce took a sip from his water. “But this sort of thing happens all the time. You get used to it.” Dick nodded. “What about you? Tell me, anything exciting in the past few days?”

“Does walking in on Tim and Jason count?” Bruce laughed, reaching up to cover his mouth, and Dick grinned, sheepishly. “But no, not really. Trying to buckle down on the whole job hunt. I mean, I can’t live with Jason forever. Even if he’d be cool with it. He deserves his space.”

“He seems like a good guy.”

Dick laughed. “Yeah. In a non-conventional way. If I was Tim’s parents I definitely wouldn’t want him dating my son.” Dick paused then. “Well...maybe not. Jay’s pretty attached to the kid. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“You’ve known him long, I assume.”

Dick nodded. “All my life. Jason’s been around through everything. Best friend I could ask for.” He leaned his elbows onto the table. “He likes you.”

“Really?” Dick nodded, and Bruce’s smile grew. “Well, I appreciate that. Always want the best friend’s approval.” Dick grinned, but said nothing.

*

They were walking back towards Bruce’s car, when, before Dick could even open the door, Bruce reached out, gripped his wrist carefully. “Come over for dinner,” he whispered, and Dick glanced at him. Bruce blushed- and Dick felt his body nearly trembling over it. “I mean...if you want to. I’d love to get to actually spend some time with you. I know this was a bit...rushed.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dick reached up, rubbed the back of his neck.

“Tomorrow night? I can pick you up.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that. I’ll get Jason to drive me over.” Bruce smiled.

“If you’re sure. Seven?”

“Sounds great.” Dick felt his own smile growing, staring at Bruce’s, up at the taller man. For a moment, he wanted nothing more then to lean in, to kiss him, wrap his arms around his neck, feel his hands on his waist, his hips-

And he might have done it, if he suddenly hadn’t heard, from halfway down the block, “Dick? Dick!” He turned, saw a mess of red hair, and Barbara was waving at him, hurrying over. He pulled his wrist back from Bruce, watching her as she closed in, stopping next to him. “Hey stranger! I thought that was you.”

“Hi Babs.” Before he could say anything else she was reaching out, giving him a quick hug. He returned it, before glancing back at Bruce. “Uh. Bruce, this is Barbara. Babs, this is Bruce-”

“Wayne,” she finished, smiling at him. “Barbara Gordon.” She extended her hand and Bruce took it, shaking it, smiling at her.

“Commissioner Gordon’s daughter?”

Barbara grinned. “Guilty.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’ve known your father quite a while. I’m sure we’ve met.” Barbara nodded, and Dick glanced between them, offering,

“I don’t want to keep you.” Bruce checked his watch, then frowned.

“I’m sorry to run. I have a meeting. Are you-”

“I’ll stay here,” Dick said with a smile. “You go.”

Bruce nodded, stepping in closer, reaching out and slipping his hand behind Dick’s neck, cupping it gently. He pulled him in, pressing his mouth to kiss, the kiss a gentle glide of his lips, one that Dick returned, after a moment of hesitation. When Bruce pulled back, he was still speaking into Dick’s mouth. “Seven tomorrow.”  
Dick nodded, swallowed. Bruce smiled again, gave him another peck, and then pulled away, walking around his car. Dick stepped back, standing next to Barbara and watching him drive away.

Bruce had barely pulled into traffic when Dick felt Barbara punch his arm, _hard_. “Ow!”

“Holy shit Dick!” He looked at her, rubbing the spot. “Are you...are you dating Bruce Wayne?”

“Not...exactly. It’s complicated.” She arched an eyebrow, and Dick sighed. “We’ve gone on a few dates. I’ve spent time with his kid.” She continued to stare, and Dick shifted anxiously. “What?”

“Have you...” she bit her lip, raising her eyebrows, and Dick rolled his eyes.

“Really something you want to ask your ex?”

She sighed, reaching out and taking his arm, pulling him away from the curb, walking him down the street. “Something I want to ask my _friend_ ,” she corrected. “Now, spill.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Something happened once. That was it. It’s just...going really fast for me. I’m out of practice.” He glanced at her, then back down the sidewalk. “There really wasn’t anyone after you, you know. No one serious, and not in years.”

He felt Barbara squeeze his arm. “You’ve gotta move on, sweetie.” She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment. “Not everything has to end like we did.”

Dick felt his stomach knot up thinking about it, and made a point not to look at her.

“I’m just glad you came back, and I’m getting a chance to be your friend, Dick. And I’m _happy_ for you, for moving on. I really am. You looked happy. With him. It’s nice to see you smile again.” They stopped, and Dick looked over at her. She was smiling so sweetly it almost hurt. “I think he’s good for you.”

Dick didn’t say anything. Because he really couldn’t deny, he thought Bruce was too. He hadn’t felt this good in a long, long time. And as terrifying as it was, he knew now, he wanted to experience it. For all the good and bad that could come with it.

But working up the nerve to admit that to Bruce? Well that was a whole different challenge.


	89. Caught (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: dickdami with dick getting out of dami's room really late, with hickeys and meeting bruce just outside the door

Dick pulled himself from the bed, glancing at the clock. Nearly 2 AM. Damn, he hadn’t meant to stay much past midnight. Bruce could be returning from Patrol, and the last thing he really needed was for the man to catch him sneaking out of his son’s room.  
Dick tracked down his pants, hopping into them before tugging on his tshirt. He glanced back at Damian, who was sound asleep, naked in bed, the sheet pooled down at the small of his back. Even in the lack of light, Dick could make out the bruise he’d left, between the dimples of his back.

He wanted to lean over him, to kiss him goodnight- but he didn’t want to risk waking him. He’d made enough noise, as it was. He settled for a fond smile, then hurried towards the door, slipping out it. He closed it, leaned back against it for a moment and sighed, eyes closed.

He did it.

“Dick.”

Or not.

He lifted his head, staring at Bruce, who was walking towards him, from the stairs. He was still in his suit, the cowl pooled around his neck- as if he couldn’t be anymore terrifying.  
“Uh. Hi. I was just...” Dick trailed off, realized he didn’t have a lie, an excuse handy. He had nothing. “You see, we...Damian and I...we just-”

Bruce folded his arms, raising a single eyebrow, staring right through Dick. The original robin swallowed thickly.

“We just wanted to...talk?”

Bruce huffed, rolling his eyes. “That’s the best you could come up with, Dick?” The younger man gawked at him, and Bruce smiled, slightly. Knowing. “Stop lying. I’ve known for a while.”

“You...you have?”

Bruce nodded. “World’s greatest detective ring a bell?” Dick blushed, looking away.

“So...if you’re gonna break every bone in my body, we probably should go do it outside. He’s actually sleeping.” Bruce unfolded his arms, walking over towards Dick, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder.

“All I’m going to do,” Bruce offered, “Is tell you to turn around and go back in there. I’m sure he’ll be happy to wake up to you being there.” Dick stared.

“You’re not...upset?”

“Oh, I was. Trust me. When I found out. But I’ve done a little thinking on it- and while, perhaps these aren’t the...ideal relationship circumstances for most, well...we’re not most people.” He smiled, squeezing Dick’s shoulder again. “And he seems happy. Happier then I’ve seen Damian in a long time. I trust you Dick,” he paused, before, quietly, “I trust you with my son.”

Dick smiled, and before Bruce could move, Dick leaned forward, throwing his arms around Bruce’s shoulders. Bruce stood for a moment, shocked, before he reached up, embraced Dick back.

“Take care of him,” Bruce whispered, “Someone has to.”


	90. Hammock (Tim/Multi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Your OTP in a hammock, peacefully napping together in each other’s arms. Person A wakes up disoriented trying to snuggle B more, but ends up flipping the entire hammock over.”
> 
> [myrandomnesslife](http://myrandomnesslife.tumblr.com/) & [scarletcloack](http://scarletcloack.tumblr.com/) asked for Timkon
> 
> [fishfingersandjellybabies](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/) asked for TimDami w/ klutzy Tim
> 
> Anon asked for JayTim with Jay trying to be romantic

TimKon:

Tim felt strangely warm. Not in a bad way, but different from that feeling of being beneath blankets. He shifted, pressed his face closer to one of the sources, inhaling happily. His arm was thrown over something, and he clutched tighter, as his eyes opened, slowly, saw a black t-shirt. He lifted his head, could see past Kon’s chest, glanced up at his own sleeping face.

He smiled to himself, shifting in closer, clutching him tighter. He’d forgotten they’d managed to climb into the hammock Kon had set up- with Pa’s help...okay, that Pa had mostly put up himself- and drifted. They’d been up since first light, and Tim had forgotten since his lasts visit to Smallville with Kon how utterly exhausting life on a farm was.

Still, it was a nice break from city life, for a few days.

He glanced up again, then smiled more to himself- thinking it could be cute to wake Kon up, kiss him softly until he was clutching at Tim and mumbling in his waking state. Tim pushed himself up, felt the hammock move, and grabbed at it around Kon’s shoulders, trying to lean up his body-

The movement rocked the hammock, and Tim felt it swaying, unsteady. He jerked back, out fo reflex, which only made it worse- and with a surprised cry from Tim, the whole thing flipped, sending both boys tumbling to the ground. Kon landed with a thud, on his shoulder, eyes jerking open, and Tim landed on his back, head smacking the grass.

Kon jerked up, so quickly that he levitated off the ground, looking around, tense suddenly. He expected there to be trouble- but when he looked down, all he saw was his boyfriend looking up at him sheepishly from where he lay, cheeks a pretty pink. He relaxed, and Tim shrugged a shoulder.

“Uh. Hi.”

“What happened?”

“I...wanted to wake you up. With a kiss...y’know...” he glanced away, pushing himself up and rubbing the back of his head. “It didn’t exactly work.” Kon lowered himself to the ground, glancing at the hammock, which was tangled now. He chuckled, reaching a hand down, pulling his boyfriend up. Tim stumbled right into his chest, and Kon locked that arm around his waist, lifting them both into the air.

Tim didn’t tense, didn’t react to the fact that his feet were no longer on solid ground. He simply tossed an arm around Kon’s shoulders, keeping close. He’d become so used to this suddenly happening that it was no longer shocking.

Kon paused, once they were hovering above the trees the hammock was strung up between, before he reached up with his free arm, capturing Tim’s chin in his hand and tilting his head back, so he could lean down, press his mouth against his. It was slow, sweet, the kind of kiss that sucked the breath from Tim’s lungs, that left him feeling fluttery still. Like he could fly without Kon’s help.

When Kon pulled back, Tim’s cheeks were even more flushed. He smiled at his boyfriend, stroking his thumb up over his cheek. “I wasn’t going to not get my kiss,” he whispered, and Tim beamed, leaning back in.

“Oh yeah?” he breathed, glancing up from thick lashes. “I feel like I owe you another one, for that whole mess.”

Kon smiled into Tim’s mouth as the smaller boy kissed him. He’d be damned before he ever turned down any of Tim’s kisses.

TimDami:

“If you wanted to nap, Drake, we could have done so _inside_.” Damian had an arm tucked up under his down head, Tim curled up on his side, head resting against his chest.

“You’re missing the point,” Tim offered, rolling his eyes. “Hammocks are comfy. We get to be outside. And besides, it’s cute.” He slipped one of his legs up over the teen’s, and Damian rolled his eyes.

“I’m not missing the point. There simply isn’t one. Or, a good one.”

Tim huffed. “There isn’t a romantic bone in your body, is there?” Damian’s other hand was resting on Tim’s back, began moving slowly, stroking his spine through his tshirt.

“I think you would have disagreed with that statement last night-”

“ _That_ wasn’t romantic,” Tim said, face blushing deeply. Damian only chuckled, and Tim wanted to punch him. It was a constant struggle, wanting to smack the teen and kiss him. Tim believed it was really about 50/50.

“I’m still not convinced,” Damian offered, “My bed is far more comfortable then this.” He glanced down at Tim. “I think you need further support for your argument.”

Tim frowned, thinking he already had supported- oh. _Oh_. He pushed himself up from Damian’s chest, looking down at the teen, lip breaking into a devious little smile.  
There wasn’t anyone home besides Alfred, he knew. And Alfred wouldn’t come out, at least not for a time, Tim felt sure of it. So what was the harm?

“I think I can do that,” Tim started, trying to lean back, to get on his knees. Having one leg over Damian’s already helped, but the hammock swayed under his movements. He leaned more, trying to compensate for it, but over estimated. It swayed, and Tim flailed his arms, losing his balance entirely and being dumped onto the ground. Damian clutched at the hammock, didn’t fall, simply rode out the sway as Tim sprawled on his belly on the ground, groaning.

Damian leaned over the side, chuckling, as Tim rolled onto his back, staring up at him. He pouted, folding his arms,

“Don’t laugh, that hurt!” The teen rolled his eyes.

“-tt- Of course you’d claim that hurt.” Tim sat up, still pouting, and Damian’s smile softened. “Get back on this thing.”

“Why? So I can fall off and you can laugh again you ass!”

“I won’t laugh. I promise.” Tim rolled his eyes but stood up, brushing himself off before he tried to climb in. Damian reached up, helping to steady him as he maneuvered over him, until he was straddling the teen. Damian smiled, motioning Tim closer with his fingers, and Tim leaned over him, gripping the hammock above Damian’s shoulders. “Now,” Damian started, leaning up slightly, letting his mouth press against Tim’s neck, “Where did the fall hurt you?”

Tim’s breath escaped him as Damian’s mouth made it’s way down to his collar bone, exposed by his vneck. The kisses were soft, almost too soft, and one of Damian’s hands was stroking his side, slipping up under his shirt to feel warm skin.

When Damian squeezed Tim’s waist, his thumb tracing little circles over the ghost of an old scar, his tongue dipping into the center of his collar bone, Tim forgot that he was mad at him at all.

JayTim:

Tim could admit this was the last thing he expected from Jason. Usually when the man showed up in Gotham, their couplings were brief, rushed and desperate. He’d be gone in a few days, sometimes that same day, and it simply left no time for anything other then a rush of clawing hands and kiss-swollen mouths.

The fact that Jason had showed up, in the middle of the day, without his damn hood, and asked Tim to spend the day with him- well. Unexpected, to say the least.

Even more so was the fact that Jason hadn’t tried to get them as far away from the Manor as possible. Tim knew relations with the whole family were tense, and that Jason felt better simply away from it all.

Instead, Tim was stretched out in a hammock, with one of Jason’s arms around him. It was...nice. Tim smiled to himself, shifting closer, one hand tracing abstract designs in Jason’s tshirt.

“You keep surprising me, Jay,” he offered, and Jason glanced down at him. “This is...nice.”

The older man glanced away for a minute, as if he was embarrassed over Tim’s comment. It only made Tim smile even more fondly.

“Just thought you...deserved something nice.” He squeezed his arm around Tim. “Maybe later tonight we can get dinner...”

Tim pushed himself up, looking down at Jason. Jason’s cheeks had the faintest blush to them- and Tim had never seen that. “Jason Todd, are you asking me out on a date?”

Jason huffed, rolling his eyes, and Tim only giggled.

“Because if you are, I’d love to.” He leaned down, resting his chin on his arm, now folded on Jason’s chest. “Though I can’t see you as the dating type.”

“Maybe I think you deserve it.” Jason reached up, toyed with a lock of Tim’s hair. “Maybe I think you deserve a lot better then...whatever we’ve managed so far.”

Tim blushed then, and without thinking surged forward, pressing his mouth to Jason’s. The older man clutched at him, tried to tug him fully on top of him. The movement was quick, jerky- and set the hammock to swaying, before it tipped, dumping them both over one side. Tim yelped, and Jason clutched at him, keeping him against his chest as they tumbled once, and Jason landed on his back with a loud thud.

Tim stared down, blinking, as Jason winced, looking up at him almost sheepishly. “You okay babybird?”

“Uh yeah. I’m fine. Did you just...” Tim furrowed his brow, “Did you just keep me from landing on the ground?”

“No need for both of us to get hurt.” Jason sighed. “So much for mt attempt at...romance, though. I’m bad at this, babe. I’m sorry-”

Jason was cut off when Tim leaned down, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him, non-too-subtly. Jason gasped into it, as Tim tipped the older man’s head back, traced his lips with his tongue, before pulling back, little pants puffing against Jason’s wet lips.

Tim was fairly sure Jason wasn’t bad at all with romance. The fact that he tried at all, that was enough. Besides, his heart was fluttering like a wild animal up into his throat, and when Jason wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him down for a second kiss, he was sure he might simply fly away if Jason let go.


	91. Drunk Confessions (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "dickdami prompt request: imagine all the batfam ( dick,barb,jase,tim,steph,dami) drunk even bruce when somebody slips out that his eldest is fucking his youngest, pretty please <3"
> 
> There's a lot of other past ships mentioned in this. Also it's very cracky. I headcanon Damian talks a _lot_ when he's drunk.

“No really,” Stephanie said, lifting her glass and grinning, “Just sayin’, give Tim like, five minutes with his tongue. You’ll never regret it.”

Across from her at the table, Tim’s cheeks had turned a bright red, while the rest of the family laughed, openly. He took a long swallow from his drink, before grabbing at the flavored vodka and dumping more into his cup, ignoring the various juice bottles on the table and tossing his head back, taking another big swallow.

“Steph I think you’ve embarrassed the babybird to death!” Jason teased, grinning over his whiskey. Next to him, Dick elbowed him.

“Jay, weigh in here. How’s Tim’s tongue? I know you know.” Tim groaned, folding his arms on the table and dropping his head into it, trying to make everyone disappear.

Jason grinned, taking a moment to think, then, “On par with yours, Dickie.” There was a round of laughter, Barbara trying to hide behind her glass, keeping her own comments to herself. The sheer amount of inner dating that had occurred within the family was almost ridiculous, and blatant during times like this.

Not that they all got to drink together, very often.

“Make sure he’s still breathing,” Dick called, and Damian glanced at Tim, before leaning over and jabbing his elbow into his ribs. Tim gasped, jerking back, and Damian smirked.

“Still alive.” He grabbed his own cup, taking a drink. He didn’t indulge with the family very often like this- and had honestly intended to be down in the cave with Cassandra and his father, but Dick had asked him to stay. Had kissed him when he was sure no one was looking, mouth tasting overly sweet already from his fruity drinks. Damian couldn’t say no.

“Bastard,” Tim muttered, and Damian rolled his eyes.

“Harlot.” The table started laughing, and Tim folded his arms.

“Angry because you can’t get any?” The laughter died, suddenly, and Jason hooted, reaching for the whiskey and pouring more into his glass.

“Shots fired,” he added, as next to him, Dick’s smile was overly fake.

“Please, Drake,” Damian said, “Anyone would choose me over you. I do not need to spread myself around like a common whore.”

“Or you can’t because no one wants you.” Tim grinned, wickedly, and Damian’s scowl grew. “Got any proof that someone does? Hmmm?” He lifted his cup, took a drink, and Damian’s cheeks flushed.

It seemed like he had no response, but then, after a moment, he said, rather loudly, “Grayson wants me.”

Across the table, Dick choked on his drink.

“Right,” Tim said with a laugh. “Dick wants a little brat like you.”

“I’m taller then you, Drake.”

“Whatever.” Tim shrugged a shoulder, glancing across the table. “Wanna weigh in Dick?”

Dick stared, his cheeks tinging pink, before he grabbed his drink, taking a large swallow. At this point, everyone was staring at him.

Damian, however, frustrated that he did not answer right away, announced very loudly, “He fucked me this morning.” The stares turned to gawks, and Damian continued, “I’m shocked you didn’t hear us. Or any other morning. You are all utterly blind. Sex is what, Grayson, daily?” Dick was shaking his head, mouthing at Damian to _shut up_ , but the teen didn’t seem able to stop, at this point. “Why, last night after patrol we fucked in the showers. Hell, Brown walked in and had no idea.”

Stephanie reached up, covering her mouth with her hand, muffling her gasp. Damian grinned wickedly.

“One time he even bent me over the Batmobile-”

“He did _what_ now?”

Everyone paused, turning towards the doorway. Bruce was standing in it, nearly filling it, Cassandra at his side. She looked rather pale, staring at them.

At the table, Dick grabbed his drink, downing the rest of it. He vaguely heard, next to him, Jason whisper, “you’re deader then I was, goldie.”

Damian stared at his father, floundering for words. He felt fuzzy and warm and realized he’d allowed himself to get far too inebriated. He’d meant to have a single drink, and shouldn’t have allowed the family to continue to press him into this. He turned, glancing at Tim, who sat next to him, arms folded, a smug smirk on his face.

And he realized, then, that Tim had known about him and Dick. He’d known and he’d simply goaded him into admitting it- and worse, right in front of his father.

“I will kill you,” Damian hissed, and Tim’s smirk just grew.

“You’ll be too busy keeping Bruce from killing your fucktoy, babybat.” Damian scowled, before he launched himself at Tim, knocking him from his chair so they sprawled on the ground. The rest of the table began to move, Jason pushing himself up and running over, grabbing Damian and trying to pull him off Tim. Dick made short work of getting around the table, away from Bruce- who was glaring daggers at him.

“We need to talk, Dick.”

A moment later, Tim gave a loud cry as Damian pulled on his hair, and Jason cursed because _dammit the brat had gotten big_. Stephanie rushed over, as well, yelling at Damian to “get a grip”, and promptly reminding Tim that “maybe he deserved this a little.”

While the enter mess unfolded, Barbara only smiled to herself, thinking this was one bit of security footage she would save forever.


	92. Single Dad AU pt8 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Great fanfics!! If you could do another SingleDad that would be appreciated. Something like Dick invites Bruce and Damian to a picnic and Dick ends up staying the night again."
> 
> So I’m changing this just a teensy bit, because we left off with Bruce inviting Dick over for dinner. But that’s close I feel c:

Dick climbed off the bike, passing Jason his helmet and raking a hand back through his hair, trying to calm it. Jason grinned. “Don’t worry Dickie, you look pretty.”

Dick rolled his eyes, then, “…You think so?”

“Always pretty boy.” Jason winked, and Dick reached out, shoving him gently.

“Thanks for the ride. Have a good night alone with Tim. He’s coming over, right?”

Jason shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think so. He’s got an exam he’s cramming for. Besides, I’ve got some business to take care of.” Dick said nothing, reaching out and squeezing Jason’s shoulder.

“Keep outta trouble, okay?” Jason grinned.

“Yeah, you too.”

Dick left him to drive off, walking up to the door. He had barely rung the bell when Alfred was opening it, smiling at Dick and stepping aside so he could walk in.

“Master Richard, welcome. Good to see you again.”

“Hi Alfred.” The door closed, and Alfred gestured towards a hallway.

“You’ll find Master Bruce is in the kitchen.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Kitchen? Wait, is _he_ cooking?”

Alfred, however, ignored him, saying calmly, “I must go check on young master Damian,” and excused himself. Dick watched him go, before making his way towards the hallway. He followed the sounds- and mostly smells- coming into the kitchen and finding Bruce at the stove, working a pan.

Dick leaned against the doorway, folding his arms. “So, on top of everything, you can cook?”

Bruce glanced over, smiling at him. The kind that had Dick feeling like a small girl, staring at her first crush. “I’m a man of a few talents, at least.”

“I’d say many.” Dick walked over, leaning in and kissing Bruce’s cheek. “It smells amazing.” Bruce smiled, turning more, sliding one arm around his waist and pulling Dick in closer, taking a real kiss from him. Dick shivered, reaching up to clutch at the collar of Bruce’s shirt- the first three buttons had been popped, leaving a long sliver of skin visible that had Dick’s heart fluttering faster.

“Dee!”

Dick jerked back, blushing, turning just in time to have Damian throw himself against his leg, clinging. The toddler was in his pajamas, and when Dick glanced down, he noticed he was missing a sock.

In the doorway, Alfred stood, holding it in one hand. “My apologies,” he offered, “but little master Damian heard the motorcycle out front and assumed master Richard had arrived.”

“Hey there kiddo,” Dick said, stooping down and lifting him up. Damian fit against his side happily, clutching onto his tshirt. “You miss me?” Damian nodded, and Dick smiled, glancing back at Bruce. “How about I entertain the munchkin, so you can cook uninterrupted?”

“Do you mind?”

Dick gave Damian a squeeze, and the boy pressed his face into his shoulder, squirming happily.

“Not at all.” He leaned in, kissing his cheek again, before turning, walking over to Alfred and taking the sock form him with a smile.

*

Dick settled in on one of the couches in a sitting room, where Damian had toys strewn out over the floor. There were a few books scattered on the couch already. He held Damian on his lap, forcing his sock back on, as the boy squirmed around.

“Want me to read to you, little D?” he asked, and Damian nodded, grabbing a book and holding it out to him. Dick smiled and opened it, holding the boy against his chest, between he and the book. “A is for Anteater,” Dick started, staring at the colorful page with the cartoon animal, opposite it a large letter A. “B is for Bobcat.”

Dick paused, before smiling, asking,

“What else is B for?”

“Bat!” Damian squealed, clapping excitedly, and Dick laughed.

“Right- o champ. Let’s see,” he flipped the page, “C is for camel.”

By the time Dick got to the end of the book, Damian was reaching for another, holding it up to him. Dick took it happily, as Damian turned, curling up into Dick’s chest as he began reading. This one was a bit longer, and by the time Dick was finishing it up, Damian was a half asleep lump in his lap.

“You tired?” Dick asked, and Damian shook his head, even as he yawned. “I bet it’s about bed time.” The boy pouted, just as Bruce appeared in the doorway. He’d shed the apron he’d been wearing when Dick first got there, but hadn’t buttoned his shirt back up.

Dick approved.

“I think it’s bedtime,” Bruce said, walking over. Dick set the book down, but Damian squirmed when Bruce tried to pick him up, crying out no! very loudly. Bruce sighed, pulling back, letting Damian settle back in against Dick. “He woke up early,” Bruce said with a sigh, “and really only slept for about half his nap.”

“It’s okay.” Dick held Damian against his chest, pushed up off the couch. “I’ll carry him.” Bruce smiled his thanks, leading out of the room, up the stairs. He pushed Damian’s bedroom door open, and Dick carried him over to his bed, managing to pull the blanket back before laying him down. This time, the boy let go of him willingly.

Dick grabbed his big stuffed bat, handing it to him, as Bruce grabbed the blanket, tucking it up over him. “Dee,” the little boy murmured, and Dick smiled, leaning over him and kissing his temple.

“Go to sleep now for me, okay little D? And daddy too. We can’t have our little superhero running on no sleep.” The boy smiled, and when Bruce leaned over him he reached an arm out, hooking it around his neck and hugging him.

“Night daddy,” he whispered, and Bruce smiled- the kind that had Dick smiling, too, because it was honest, happy.

“Good night Damian.” The boy pulled his arm back, yawning.

“Night Dee.”

“G’night kiddo.”

*

Dick smiled across the small table, as Bruce laughed. He was recounting a story of Jason and he from his teenage years, when Jason had pranked one of their high school teachers.

“He’ll be the death of me,” Dick added, at the end, grabbing his wine glass and taking a drink. Bruce smiled at him.

“At least your friendship is never boring.”

“No, it definitely isn’t.” Dick paused, then added, “He’s given me some good advice, too.”

“Has he?”

Dick nodded. “Yeah. Like telling me to simply let go and let things happen. If it feels right to go with it, until it doesn’t.” He set his glass down, feeling his pulse picking up, knowing he was starting a train of thought he couldn’t shut down- something he’d been thinking about far too much lately-

Or maybe just enough.

“I’ve been thinking,” Dick finally said, hands reaching down to rub on his thighs, over his jeans. Needing to move. “About…all this.”

Bruce was quiet, watching him with those intense eyes. Dick swallowed.

“What…what do you want, here? With us?”

“Honestly?” Dick nodded, and Bruce offered up a small, calm smile. “I want you, Dick. However you’re comfortable. However…slow we need to go. But you…you’re something else.” Dick blushed, and Bruce pushed his chair back, walking around the table to him, leaning over him and stroking a hand back through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

Dick blushed when Bruce kissed him, slow and gentle, until Dick was reaching a hand up, hooking it around his neck, running his tongue along his lip. Bruce yielded, made the smallest of sounds as Dick traced his teeth, tasted the wine on his tongue.

“Maybe,” he whispered, pulling back, smiling too, “Maybe we’ve been going a little too slow.”

Bruce was kissing him again before Dick could even breathe.

*

Dick arched his back, Bruce’s mouth working down his navel. His tshirt was thrown off onto the floor, discarded mere moments after they made it into the bedroom.

Dick hadn’t planned on it ending up like this. He’d meant to actually talk.

But kissing Bruce was dangerous, led to such a heat under his skin, it was hard to ignore. And the fact that he had told himself it was okay, that this step was fine, well- it made any resistance impossible.

Bruce’s teeth dragged along the skin above his jeans, before he was popping open the button, pulling on the zipper, and then tugging them off Dick’s hips. Dick lifted up, aiding him, until they were off his legs, tossed to the floor as well. When Bruce came back, was rubbed his cheek against the obvious shape of Dick’s erection through his underwear, hands rubbing up his thighs. Dick inhaled, shaky, hips pushing up off the head.

 

“Sorry,” he breathed, as Bruce kissed the inside of one thigh. “It’s…been a while. Just…that one time with you-” he broke off in a gasp as Bruce licked a hot trail up one thigh, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as his cock throbbed.

“Don’t be sorry,” Bruce breathed, moving back up Dick’s body, until he was leaning over him, pressing a kiss just under his jaw. “I like you like this.”

“A mess?” Dick gasped when Bruce’s mouth closed over skin, sucked until he was whining, until blood was rushing up under his skin, reddening it, showing promise of a soon-coming bruise.

“Yeah.” Dick groaned, arching his hips up, making a point to rub against Bruce, feeling the man’s own erection through his clothing. Bruce chuckled into his neck, letting his eyes fall shut as he forced Dick’s hips down, pinned him with his own body.

“You’re…over dressed,” Dick breathed, grabbing at Bruce’s fully open shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. Bruce grinned, managing to pull it off and tossing it away, so that Dick could grasp at his bare shoulder blades. He leaned up, pressing his mouth to the corner of Bruce’s. “Before I…lose my nerve.”

“You sure?” Dick nodded, feeling almost dizzy. He wanted this, wanted Bruce, wanted the intimacy and the release. Had wanted it for too long now, had tried to keep it in check. But he was sick of being afraid of where it could end, when he didn’t even know the road leading too that fear.

Bruce pulled off him, moving towards his bedside table. Dick took a deep breath, before he reached down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down. He tossed them off the bed, was squirming back into the pillows when Bruce turned back, eyes raking up and down him without shame. Dick shivered.

He settled between Dick’s legs, guiding them apart- and Dick didn’t watch, heard the cap opening to the bottle. It had been so long- hell, after Barbara the affair he’d had with a guy had been fast, burning hot and out quicker then he could even register. And that was years ago-

And before that, it was _before_ her, even.

He expected to feel Bruce’s slick fingers, expected them sliding between flesh- what he got, suddenly, was Bruce’s breath on his cock, and then his tongue, tracing up along the underside. He gasped, arching up, and Bruce sucked the head into his mouth, teasing it. He groaned, hands rubbing along the sheets, the buzz in his body intensifying-

He felt it then, when Bruce’s fingers pressed against his hole, not into him but simply rubbing against it, getting him used to the touch. He was too distracted, however, by the fact that Bruce had that ridiculous mouth of his around his cock that his apprehension was damn near forgotten.

When one of Bruce’s fingers eased into him, he was shocked at how calm he felt about it. He moaned, openly, as Bruce pulled off his cock, tongue lapping under the head, before he felt his lips pulling into a smile against it. “Okay?” he whispered, and Dick nodded, spreading his thighs more.

That single finger worked slowly, gentle thrusts, until Dick didn’t even register it was foreign. Bruce kissed at his pelvis, his abdomen as he worked it, until he was sucking him back into his mouth again, a second finger pressing into his body.

This time Dick felt the stretch. He closed his eyes, tipping his head back- it didn’t hurt, but he felt as if he wanted to tense up. Bruce stilled inside him, free hand rubbing one thigh as he focused his attention on his cock, until Dick was moaning again, body relaxing. Only then did he dare to thrust into him, lazy, until Dick was squirming, beginning to push down against those fingers.

“I’m- not gonna last,” Dick gasped, as Bruce pulled off his cock again, “If you keep using your mouth.”

Bruce chuckled. “You don’t have to. Whenever you want to come, it’s alright.” Dick shivered, shaking his head.

“With you,” he whispered, “inside me.” Bruce groaned at that, thrusting his fingers in a little harder, curling them- and when they hit that spot inside Dick, the younger man nearly screamed, arching up off the bed.

The grin Bruce was boasting at that was almost obscene.

“Please,” Dick breathed, and Bruce pulled his fingers out, even though he wanted to torment him longer, to make sure he was stretched open enough- but _god_ , Dick was too enticing. Bruce had thought about this far too much to have any sort of patience, when Dick was begging, with his thighs trembling.

Bruce poured lube only his palm, stroking it over himself, as Dick tugged another pillow behind him, daring to reach down, to grasp his own cock and stroke up, slowly. Bruce stared, as Dick bit at his lower lip, smirking around it. When he grabbed at his thighs, pulling him closer, Dick could feel the sheer brute force in those finger tips.

His cock twitched over it, over the fact that he was pretty sure Bruce could over power him, easily. He _liked_ it.

He felt the head of Bruce’s cock pressing against his hole, and tipped his head back, exhaling as it pushed slowly into him. Bruce moved so slowly, it felt like years and yet mere seconds before he was fully inside Dick. The younger man groaned, breathy, as Bruce tipped his head down, pressing his mouth to Dick’s exposed throat, not moving as he felt Dick’s body clenching around him, before he began to relax, slowly, under the assault of his kisses.

“I’m….okay,” Dick whispered, when Bruce still didn’t move, and he felt him chuckle more then heard it. All he could hear was his pulse.

“Maybe I’m not,” Bruce admitted, nuzzling under his chin, kissing softly. And Dick laughed, breathy, body vibrating around Bruce. He lifted his legs, wrapping them around Bruce’s hips, squeezing, moving his hips gently, getting a slight thrust that had Bruce suddenly moving- unable to fight it. He pulled back before snapping his hips forward, and Dick was arching, crying out to him, wrapping his arms up around his shoulders.

He fit perfectly, Dick was sure. He didn’t remember sex ever feeling like this before- how Bruce had him feeling utterly filled, how there wasn’t an inch of his body he was inhabiting, in that moment, as he kissed him, continuing his thrusts.

He dropped his head down to Dick’s shoulder forehead pressing to it, as Dick clung to him, blunt nails digging into his back. His body was rolling already, set so close to orgasm before Bruce was even inside him that it was embarrassing. 

But part of Dick just didn’t care.

His cock was trapped between them, getting the slightest friction from their bodies. But it was enough- more then enough, honestly, and Dick didn’t even have a chance to realize what was happening to him. He clutched at Bruce as if his life depended on it, crying out loudly as his body clenched around him, tightly, his cock pulsing through his orgasm that stained them body.

Dick felt Bruce groan into his skin, felt his mouth on his while he was still riding the waves, his hips jerking, before stilling, and a sweet wet heat filling him. One of his hands let go of its iron grip on his shoulder blade, found of the back of his neck, fingers tangling up into his hair, keeping Bruce from pulling away from the kiss.

Not that Bruce had any desire in that moment to do anything but kiss the very breath from Dick’s lungs.

*

“That was,” Dick whispered, once he had finally caught his breath, his mind had settled back into his body. He was stretched out along Bruce’s side, leaning onto his chest, tracing an abstract pattern against his chest with a single finger. “ _Amazing_.”

Bruce chuckled, shifting his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

“…Was it okay for you?”

This time, a full blown laugh.

“You need to ask?” Dick shrugged a shoulder, and Bruce glanced down at him. “Of course it was.”

Dick smiled, slowly. “Okay.” He glanced back down. “I’m sort of kicking myself for not jumping your bones a lot earlier, now.”

“We’ll have to make up for lost time, then.”

Dick groaned, flopping down onto Bruce’s chest, his arm stretching out over his ribs. “It has been a long time, maybe ease me into it a bit?” Bruce smiled, reaching down and rubbing between his shoulder.

“That I can do.”

Dick smiled, snuggling up more. “So…we were…talking. Before.” Bruce hummed, and Dick blushed. “About…”

“You’re asking what this is.” Dick’s cheeks flushed, were warm against Bruce’s chest. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Dick. You…I like you. I like being around you. And if us is something you want to pursue, well…I’m all for it.”

Dick glanced up at Bruce, sucking on his lower lip. “I haven’t dated anyone in a long time.” The moment he said it he felt stupid, realized he sounded like a child, and Bruce was chuckling.

“And I haven’t been in a relationship since Damian’s mother- and well. You’ve heard how that went.”

“Nothing serious since Barbara,” Dick admitted, before he was pushing himself up, off of Bruce. He tugged on the sheet, letting it pool around his waist, as Bruce sat up, quirking up an eyebrow.

“She was-”

“My fiancee, yeah.” Dick sighed. “We’re trying to be friends. It feels like its working.”

Bruce said nothing, and Dick wasn’t sure what it was, but suddenly he was speaking, before he eve registered he had wanted words to form.

“It just feels weird sometimes. We spent so many good years together. We were ready for the next step. We…we were going to have a _family_.” Dick felt his shoulders shaking a little, but couldn’t stop them. “She was pregnant. God, I was going to be a _dad_. And then…she had a miscarriage, and I…I…” Dick twisted the sheet in his hands, “I fucking lost it. I didn’t know what to do. How to cope. I couldn’t be around her because I just remembered what we almost had, and she was so sad. She looked at me and saw what our baby could have been, and I didn’t want to…remind her. And everything in Gotham just breathed of almost memories, possibilities- a world I’d never get to show my kid.”

Dick felt a trickle down his cheek, realized he was crying. He shook his head, cursing.

“God what the hell, I’m sorry Bruce I-”

Dick’s words fell apart when he felt Bruce’s arms around him, tugging him in. He fell against his chest, letting himself shake then, crying for the first time in years. Because he had never really grieved. He’d cried alone, bitterly.

Never to Jason. So little with Barbara. But never once with anyone who held him, who stroked his hair and hushed him, but let the tears come. Who didn’t question.

Dick nuzzled into Bruce’s chest, squeezing his eyes shut. The tears felt like a relief, like a weight, lifting off his aching chest. Like something that had kept him on the ground for so long.

Giving them up, it made room in his chest for all the warmth he felt, around the man holding him. For the feeling of wholeness he got from having Damian saying goodnight to both of them, from watching Bruce with his son, and both of them giving him those charming smiles.

It made room for the concept of family a new, a chance at something Dick had wanted far more then he ever let himself admit, or even realize. It left room for a future.


	93. Single Dad AU pt9 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [st00pz](http://st00pz.tumblr.com/) asked: "heyys for the kissing meme, may I ask for BruDick - 15. Kiss on the back (idk, could be in ur single dad AU or anything you'd like?) thanks!"

Dick pressed his face into the pillow, sighing softly as a large, warm hand stroked down along his spine. He shifted, turning, caught a glimpse of Bruce leaning over him, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Morning,” Bruce whispered, and Dick’s smile was lazy, sweet, sleepy.

“G’mornin’,” he mumbled, got another kiss, slightly lower. He closed his eyes again. “Time is it?”

“After eight.”

Dick shifted, felt Bruce leaning over him more, the brush of his legs against Dick’s thighs. There was a dull ache, down in his core, a gentle reminder of what they’d done, the night prior.

More so, there was a strange lightness in his chest.

“Don’t you need to work?” Dick asked, and Bruce just smiled into his spine.

“I made a point to move my meeting until noon. I’m yours for the morning.” Dick hummed, shifting to his side, managed to roll onto his back, to stare up at Bruce who looked far too alert already. Eyes bright and blue and far too intense. Dick’s belly went to knots.

“You planned for this?” he whispered, reaching up to rub his hand along Bruce’s chest. The older man smiled.

“I _hoped_ for it.” Dick’s smile turned to a grin, and he hooked his arm up over Bruce’s shoulders, pulling him down for a lazy kiss. Sweet, slow movements of mouths that left Dick’s mind spinning, could have been seconds or hours, and it didn’t matter. He felt almost frozen, in this small space.

He never wanted it to end, it was perfect-

Well, except, it was missing one thing.

As if on queue, the knob to Bruce’s door twisted. Bruce didn’t pull from Dick’s mouth tho, continued to kiss him even as the door slipped open, and Damian’s little body slid in. He was holding his stuffed bat by one tiny wing, and he walked over to the side of the bed, tugging on the blanket.

Dick laughed, openly, turning away from Bruce’s mouth, who huffed, moving off Dick and falling to the side of the bed. He sat up, smiling down at Damian, who reached his arms up, looking at him expectantly.

Dick leaned over, hoisting the toddler up, holding him in his lap. The boy grinned, settling in happily as Dick stroked his sleep tussled hair back.

“Mornin’ sunflower,” Dick whispered, and Damian’s little cheeks went pink. Next to them, Bruce smiled, reaching out, stroking Dick’s thigh beneath the sheets, fingers running along the hem of his underwear. Dick squeezed the toddler, and in that moment Bruce surged up, placing a kiss to his little red nose. Damian’s face scrunched up and he squealed, squirming, before Bruce was grabbing him, flopping back onto his back and holding him up in the air with easy.

Damian flailed, before holding his arms out, as if he was flying. Dick watched, smiling, feeling his chest growing warm and tight, all over again.

He had thought for so long that he had lost his only chance at a family, with Barbara, with their never-met baby. He had convinced himself for so long that there was only that one option, that it was gone forever.

He knew, in this very moment, that he was wrong.

And now, he would be happy to be frozen in time, stuck in this one moment on endless loop forever.


	94. Jealous Kiss (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "21 jealous kiss with dickdami Bl ( I can't stop, I won't stop )"

Damian set his mouth in a firm line, watching across the room as Dick leaned over Barbara’s chair, reaching for her mouse. She was grinning, swatting at him playfully. Had something pulled up on the main cave computer.

Their closeness set a strange tightness in Damian’s belly. One that left him wanting to ball his hands in fists- one that distracted him from his work out.

As if a god was frowning down on him, Jason emerged from the elevator and made his way over, leaning into the back of Barbara’s chair- speaking, but Damian couldn’t make out the words. But Barbara was laughing more, and Dick was blushing- he could just make out the color in his cheeks.

Jason reached over Barbara’s shoulder, ruffling Dick’s hair as the older man straightened out, and reached out, awkwardly hooking an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a half hug.

The tightness worsened, and Damian was moving before he could help himself. He stalked towards them, not saying a word until he saw Jason catch a glimpse of him, from the corner of his eyes.

“Grayson.”

Dick turned, was smiling still, and with Jason and Barbara both watching, Damian reached out, gripping the collar of Dick’s tshirt, and pulling him in. Their mouths crashed together without ceremony, Damian tilting his head so he had the better angle, could move his mouth against Dick’s in that sweet way he knew the older man liked. Dick gave a surprised little sound, one that Damian swallowed up, as his tongue flicked against Dick’s lower lip.

Instead of pushing his way in, he sucked the older man’s lower lip into his mouth, pulling on it with his teeth as he pulled away, leaving Dick breathless, cheeks flushed a deep pink. Damian smirked, glancing at Jason and Barbara, who were utterly gawking at him.

He released Dick’s collar, turning on his heel, and heading back for the mats. The tightness in his belly had eased- jealousy, he knew, could admit to himself. Didn’t matter that Dick’s relationships with Barbara and Jason were a thing of the best- seeing them all so close, it brought up insecurities in Damian.

But knowing he’d left Dick utterly breathless in front of them- that eased it all away.


	95. Someday I Won't Be Here (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "jaytim 11 plz"
> 
> I’ve had 2 people ask for JayTim and the “I almost lost you kiss”!

Tim was panting when Jason grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around so roughly that Tim nearly lost his balance. For a moment, he stared up at the red helmet, couldn’t see Jason’s expression behind it-

Before the man was tearing it off, tossing it away, glaring down at him. Pissed.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he yelled, and Tim scowled.

“That I can _handle_ a few of Ra’s’s men-”

“You don’’t just handle the League of Assassins!” Jason’s hand moved from Tim’s shoulder, balling in his cape, pulling it over his shoulder as he held with an iron grip. “Goddammit Tim, if I hadn’t gotten here-”

“I’d be _fine_.” Tim kept his scowl, even if he wasn’t so sure of his own words. Truth be told, the man Jason had put a bullet in had been moving in on his blindspot, Tim busy enough with the other two he had coming at him from front and right side. They’d gotten the jump on him- and admitting that was embarrassing enough. Tim was used to Ra’s surprising him, to the man’s strange obsession.

And maybe Tim wouldn’t have died, but he sure as hell would be bleeding out at this point, and calling in the family for an evac. And he’d be off the streets for a time.

So, maybe it was a good thing Jason had shown up.

“I swear to fucking god,” Jason muttered, and Tim saw his face softening, “You cocky little fuck, someday I’m not gonna be here to bail your ass out of trouble. Someday…I won’t…” his voice broke, and before Tim knew what was happening, Jason was tugging him in, covering his mouth with his own. His other arm locked around Tim’s waist, holding him steady, as he kissed him breathless, until Tim was dizzy, leaning into Jason’s larger frame, hands sliding between them, pressing flat to his ribs.

Tim felt Jason pulling back, slightly, just enough so that he was speaking against his mouth.

“Someday I won’t be here…” he whispered, before he pressed his forehead against Tim’s. He didn’t need to finish the thought- Tim got it. Someday, Tim would get himself into trouble, and Jason wouldn’t be there to save him.

And Tim wouldn’t make it out alive.

He didn’t agree with that. Exactly. Tim didn’t doubt that someday, he’d get in too deep- but it was a fate he was sure they were all in for. The lives they lived didn’t really give the satisfaction of a long life expectancy. The fact that he wasn’t dead yet he counted as a miracle, each day.

Tim let one hand roam up over Jason’s chest, curling around the back of his neck. He smiled, soft and sad, as he felt Jason’s fingers trembling against him.

“But you were here tonight,” Tim offered, “And I still am.”

For one more night, at least.

Tim knew he could never promise anymore then that.


	96. Tie Trouble (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "#17 dickdami (it says shy kiss)"
> 
> Forever my weakness, DickDami <3 PS Dami is a bit younger here, like 16…it’sjustakissit’sokayrightI’mgoingtohellanywayso…

Damian fumbled with his tie, flipping it over itself, attempting to tuck it into the knot. He tightened it, glancing at it in the mirror, noticing the bottom half was far too long, extending past the top half. He huffed, as there was a knock on his door, and then it opened, before he could even respond-

“Little D, you ready yet?”

Dick stared in as Damian turned, face cracking into a grin as he noticed Damian’s disaster of a tie.

“Having some trouble?” The teen rolled his eyes, and Dick walked over, gently turning him and reaching for the tie. “Relax kiddo, I don’t think I mastered these things until I was in my twenties.” He untucked Damian’s awful knot, reaching up and readjusting the length on one side.

Damian said nothing, simply held his breath as Dick’s hands moved so close to his neck, as the man stood within his space. He had about an inch and a half on Damian still, height wise- but the way Damian had been growing, they’d be even within the year.

Damian almost wished it wouldn’t happen. He liked having Dick glance down at him, through those thick, dark lashes. With those ridiculous blue eyes.

His heart was hammering in his chest.

“At least Bruce isn’t making us wear tuxes,” Dick was saying, as he flipped one half the tie over the other. “I _still_ can’t tie a damn bowtie.” He chuckled to himself, tugging on the knot of the tie until it was snug to Damian’s collar. He took a moment to take in his work, before nodding in approval and reaching for the boy’s collar, flipping it down.

His knuckles brushed Damian’s neck, and his stomach flipped.

“There,” he said with a grin. “Perfect.” He reached up, ruffling Damian’s hair, and the teen’s cheeks tinged pink. “See? Aren’t you lucky to have a big brother?” His grin was cheesy, and Damian’s stomach went to tight knots.

“Thanks,” he whispered, cursed the he had to whisper, because he was terrified his voice might waver. Terrified because he felt so jittery, because he could feel Dick’s knuckles brushing on his neck still, in his mind. Could imagine Dick’s hands had they moved off the tie, to brush along his chest, down to his stomach, his waist.

If they had clutched at him, held him still-

“Anytime kid,” Dick offered, and moved to turn. Damian reached out, gently caught Dick’s jacket, the very end of it, and the older man stopped, glancing down at him.

Damian leaned up, feeling as if he would lose his balance, feeling his hands shaking. His other one pressed to Dick’s chest, flat, fingers splayed, as he managed to catch the corner of the man’s mouth quickly.

He expected to be pushed away, but Dick didn’t move. He stood there, until Damian was leaning back- and he was simply hot, he was sure. No way the heat in his cheeks, the color, was from this man, from the fact that Dick had been so close, that Damian had lost his mind, kissed him-

Did that even _count_ as a kiss?

“I am lucky,” Damian finally offered, before he glanced away, pulling his hands back. He moved past Dick quickly, long strides towards the door and out of it, unable to wait for his reaction, for him to chastise Damian. For him to ask what the hell that had been.

He’d harbored this stupid crush far too long to be mentally ready for this without any preparation.

In his haste, he missed Dick reaching up, touching the corner of his mouth. Missed the way his pupils has gone slightly large, or the way his fingers ran over his lower lip then. “Huh,” he whispered, gently to himself, and somewhere, in his gut, he had the urge to turn and chase Damian down, to pull him back in and kiss him properly.

When had the kid suddenly gotten old enough to think of kissing anyone?

When had he suddenly wanted to kiss Dick?

…And when had Dick suddenly started wanting to kiss him back?


	97. Let Them Sleep (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "For the kiss prompt-20? Exhausted parents kiss with dickdami?? If u get to this one thank you so much in advance!"
> 
> For more information on Mags, check out my [accidental Robin](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/tagged/accidental%20robin) tag over on tumblr! And join in the fun talking about her c:

Damian stared down at the sleeping body on the couch. Dick was sprawled out, head tipped back, breathing evenly. Tucked in next to him, between his body and the back cushions, Mags was passed out as well, her head pillowed on his chest, her curls a disaster against his tshirt, over her cheek.

He folded his arms, taking a moment to simply watch them. He knew Dick had been out on patrol the evening prior, had gotten up early to see him off for his early morning meetings- how his father ever dealt with the business aspect of the company and kept his sanity was a wonder to Damian- and then had promised to spend the day with the girl, who had barely gotten used to the Manor yet.

Damian couldn’t exactly blame her. The Manor was huge, compared to the tiny apartment she had been crammed in with her mother and a few other occupants. The fact that it was an actual home- or promised to be- was probably a bit much, as well.

He knew Mags hadn’t slept much, since the move. Since her mother’s death. He heard her at night, when she should have been passed out after patrol, pacing the halls. One time, he’d seen her, suit on, sitting on the roof.

He knew he should have gone to her, then. But this was new to him, too.

Damian leaned down, pressed his mouth to Dick’s temple. The man stirred but didn’t wake, even though he did smile, in his sleep. He didn’t know if he’d make it through this, without Dick. At first he thought it could be easy- how hard could having a kid around be.

He was terribly, terribly wrong. And he knew that however exhausted he was from dealing with having two lives- being both Batman and Damian Wayne took energy he hadn’t had since he was a young teenager- Dick was equally, if not more. After all, he had over ten years on Damian, patrolled just as much as he did- and was stepping in now, when Damian realized he was in over his head with this kid.

But there was something about her, he couldn’t just give up.

Worse, seeing her curled up so easily next to Dick, sound asleep- it made his chest hurt, tighten warm and on the good side of painful. He knew what it was like to be small, to press against the man. He was soothing.

He still was.

Damian reached out with tentative fingers, running them over Mags’s curls. She shifted, her arm dropping over Dick’s ribs, as she turned her face more into his chest.

He was sure she needed this sleep, more then Dick did, even.

He knew what it was like to be ten, to be uprooted, to have his entire life flipped. He knew how terrifying the Manor could be, when you were small.

He stroked her curls one more time, before he kissed Dick’s hair again, then stepped back, walking quietly for the door. He saw no reason to disturb them, in that moment.

Let them sleep. He knew, with their lives, sleep- and peaceful, at that- was a treasure.


	98. Drunk Enough? (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Drunk/sloppy kiss, JayDick."

Dick felt as if there was an inferno in the flesh of his cheeks. He didn’t need to see them to know they were pink, and he wondered how he’d gotten to this point, how strong his drinks had really been.

He should have known better then to let Stephanie make them. She had a pension for trying to fuck him up in the best, most fruity ways possible. He swore he couldn’t even taste whatever she’d put in them.

He tipped his cup back, finishing off the drink, and then leaned over the arm of the couch, feeling limp and warm and over-all pleasant, despite the heat in his cheeks. Happily buzzed-

Drunk, if he was honest.

He heard footsteps walking into the room, and then someone leaning on the back of the couch.

“You pass out on us, Dickie?” Dick grinned, didn’t open his eyes.

“Just resting my eyes, Jaybird.” He did open them, then, saw Jason grinning down at him, playfully. He smiled back, even as Jason pushed himself off the back of the couch, walking around it and climbing on, shamelessly straddling Dick.

The older man didn’t push him off. In fact, as Jason leaned down over him, one hand reaching out and gripping the arm of the couch, he tossed both his arms over his shoulders, tugging him in closer, faster.

Jason’s mouth was wet against his own, and Dick surged up into the kiss, the overly eager tongue that pressed into his mouth with no finesse. Jason tasted like tequila, and somewhere, Dick wondered for a moment which family member he’d been doing shots with.

The thoughts were gone in a moment as Jason groaned into his mouth, sucking on his lower lip, before pushing his tongue back in. It was wet, messy, and Dick’s lips were slick in mere seconds. He didn’t care. He liked when Jason kissed him like this, always had. It was needy, border-line desperate, and there was something so satisfying about that.

He pushed his hips up, against Jason’s, and the younger man pinned them down with his own, grinding into him until Dick was whining. When he pulled back, he took a moment to stare at Dick’s overly wet mouth, his sinfully flushed cheeks.

“Drunk enough for a quickie?” Jason asked, and Dick laughed, breathless, before he pulled Jason down for another kiss.

His tongue pressing into Jason’s mouth was answer enough. Besides- Dick hoped that Jason knew the answer to that question was always an overly-enthusiastic _fuck yes_.


	99. In the Morning (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "DamiTim, Giggly kiss, pleasepleaseplease?"

Tim tangled his legs in with Damian, nosing up under the sleeping teen’s chin. He mumbled, turning his head away, and Tim smiled, pressing his mouth to his pulse for a moment.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” he murmured, just under his ear, and Damian groaned. Tim pulled himself closer, kissed the boy’s cheek once, twice, three times-

Before Damian was opening his eyes, trying to squirm away. “Drake, what the hell are you doing?”

“Waking you up,” he offered with another kiss. Damian scrunched his face.

“You’re like a child.” Tim rolled his eyes, pulling himself up and over Damian’s body, until he was straddling him. He leaned over, pressing a kisses all along his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, corner of his mouth. Damian squirmed, reaching up for his waist, a breathy _Drake_ escaping his mouth-

Before he smiled. A real, honest smile. The kind Tim could get only in the morning, if Damian was sleepy enough, if he tried just hard enough.

“Stop,” Damian said again, with no power behind it. Tim kissed the corner of his mouth, then the tip of his nose. And Damian _laughed_. “I mean it.”

“Uh-huh,” Tim said, before he nuzzled under his chin, smiling and pressing kisses to Damian’s neck, giggling to himself because his belly was fluttering, excitement building in his throat. He loved Damian in the morning more then any other time. Loved that whatever defense he had against affection seemed to utterly dissipate, that he could smile and even laugh and it wasn’t forced.

Damian’s hands on his waist moved, arms winding around him, and he pulled Tim down against his chest, rolling him over and pinning him into the mattress with his body. He nuzzled at the smaller man’s neck, kissing it quickly, gently- mouth moving up over his cheeks, and Tim squirmed, giggling openly as he felt Damian nearly grin against his cheek.

He loved the teen’s revenge for his affection, as well.


	100. Hazelnut (TimBart)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [afleshjackforblainecharitydrive](http://afleshjackforblainecharitydrive.tumblr.com/) asked: "Maybe JayTim and Kiss on the nose and shy kiss? I'd like Tim and Bart but I know that's somewhat of a rare pairing. So I don't expect that."
> 
> I actually went with TimBart because I dig it and I have never been asked for it before!

Tim in the morning, before his coffee, was definitely a sight to behold.

Especially when he’d been up half the night, with the team, rescuing the city.

Especially when he’d been up almost the rest of the night, calling in back home to Oracle to make sure he didn’t have any loose ends on their target.

So, seeing him padding into the kitchen, in his sweatpants and old tshirt that was definitely a size too big, falling off one shoulder, well- Bart could only grin to himself, from where he sat on his stool, pushed up against the bar that boxed in their kitchen.

“Sleep well princess?” he asked, and Tim grunted, heading right for the coffee machine. He blindly reached into the cupboard, pulled down _his_ mug- the Nightwing mug that everyone knew not to touch because Tim would know.

Teasing him about his adoration for his _big brother_ was another fun thing in Bart’s catalog when it came to Tim- but this in general was still better.

He watched Tim pour his coffee, toss in some sugar, and then move to the fridge, hunting for creamer. Quietly, he rested his chin on his hands, wishing Tim would sit down next to him. Then he might get away with reaching out and playing with that bed-tussled hair, until Tim was on to his second cup of coffee and could swat Bart’s hand away.

Little moments like that made Bart’s heart flutter as if he was trying to vibrate through a damn wall.

Tim had moved back to his mug now, poured in his creamer, and was holding it in both hands against his mouth, sipping carefully. Bart swore the teen’s eyelids fluttered.

“Make sure it takes you out to breakfast,” he teased, now completely ignoring the rest of his own food. It could wait. Tim flipped him off quickly, before he trudged over, leaning his elbows down onto the bar and glancing at him.

“Funny,” he muttered, and Bart grinned.

“Thanks cutie. You know I _try_.” Tim rolled his eyes, huffing, before taking another long sip. When he pulled his mug away, Bart could only bet his mouth tasted like hazelnut-

And that was a dangerous thought. Because anytime he thought about Tim’s mouth, he thought about _kissing it_ , and well- that might not end well. Probably. Maybe.

He didn’t really know with Tim, anymore. Couldn’t really get a reading if he would push him off, or maybe enjoy the moment? Bart was pretty sure Tim would kiss just about anyone- but, well. Best friends and all. Might be weird.

Especially because Bart was pretty sure once he started kissed Tim, he wouldn’t stop.

Tim was taking another sip of his coffee, and Bart decided he might as well test the water a little. Worst, Tim would yell at him, maybe. He might be too tired, might just forget. So, the moment Tim’s mug was down on the bar, Bart leaned over the counter, his lips pressing to the tip of Tim’s nose.

He was settled back on his stool before Tim could even scrunch his nose up. When he did, his cheeks at the faintest hint of pink. “Funny,” he said, again, as if it was a joke, and took another sip of coffee.

No yelling. No disgust.

Bart rubbed his hands along the thighs of his jeans, felt his palms sweating. Tim’s hair was falling over his cheeks now, as he finished off what was in his mug. Bart wanted to curl it around his fingers, use it to tug Tim’s mouth to his own. He’d thought of that way too many times too. _Way too many_.

Tim straightened up, and Bart wasn’t sure what it was, about this particular morning, that gave him courage, but he was up and running around into the kitchen, sinking a hand back into Tim’s hair before the teen had even moved. He pulled him in, pressed his mouth to Tim’s, tilted his head so he could glide his mouth over Tim’s in a way that had his own stomach doing flips.

He ran his tongue along the seam of his mouth, and when Tim’s lips opened Bart assumed it was shock, but took advantage of it, pressed into his mouth for the briefest of seconds, just long enough to know he did taste like hazelnut, to learn how utterly warm the inside of his cheek was. Then he was pulling back, letting go of Tim’s hair and taking a step back.

Tim was staring at him. His eyes had gone wide, and the hand holding his mug was nearly limp, the mug tilted and resting partially on the bar. Bart felt color rising in his cheeks, and he realized he’d actually done it, finally. He’d actually kissed Tim.

Oh god he’s kissed Tim, oh god- _ohgodohgodohgodohgod_ -

The color spread from his cheeks all the way to his ears, as Tim just kept staring at him. With a breathy, _Ihavetogo_ , he turned, ran out of the room so fast Tim didn’t even see him go. He was just gone.

Tim hesitated a moment, before he properly lifted his mug and walked back to the coffee machine. He poured himself another cup, fixed it the way he liked, before turning, leaning back against the counter.

He had a little smile on his lips, as he sipped at it. He’d wait until this cup was gone, then go track Bart down. Seemed like maybe they had something to talk about.

Seemed like maybe he owed him a kiss.


	101. Going Viral (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [scarletcloack](http://scarletcloack.tumblr.com/) asked: "Hnnnng. Is it possible for me to request some shy timkon kisses? Idk I just love how cute you make these two u////u"

Tim tossed himself off the building, fanning out the wings of his suit as he picked up the wind. Below him, on the streets, he could see the car the team was chasing, trunk filled with weapon-grade chemicals that, in the wrong hands, would breed disaster.

“Got a visual,” he said, over the com, as he noticed the blur that was Bart, zig-zagging around traffic and evening out with the driver side door. “Kid Flash is on point.”

“Right behind him.” Cassie, and then she was dropping down, landing on the roof, her boots leaving indents. Bart had the door open, was pulling the driver out, curving away as Cassie hopped off the roof, turning and catching the car in her strong hands, forcing it to stop.

Tim was about to dive down, calculating he would land right on the man in the back seat as he tried to hop out, or right in front of him- when the wind gave out, and suddenly his glide was turning into a free fall. He tried to steady his wings, to catch it again, but there was nothing, and he figured he had about eight seconds before he hit pavement and broke too many bones to count-

Four seconds to spare, and there were arms around him, grabbing him and jerking him against a solid chest. Tim, out of reflex, reaching up and wrapped his arms around Kon’s neck as the teen jerked up, stopping his speed fast enough to knock the wind out of Tim.

Tim glanced up at him, blushed a slightly. “Nice save,” he whispered, and Kon squeezed him gently, hovering down slowly until his boots hit pavement.

“What are boyfriends for?” he asked and behind his domino mask, Tim rolled his eyes. He turned, saw that Cassie had the three men from the car all nicely tied up in her lasso, and was smiling happily at the crowd that was forming. They were all pulling their phones out, snapping pictures of Cassie and Bart, even video.

Kon walked them over, not setting Tim down, and Bart grinned at them, hands on his hips. His smile told Tim he had some sort of teasing remark he’d be hearing later, away from the public. While the team knew about their relationship, it wasn’t otherwise public knowledge yet.

“Superboy totally saved Red Robin!” someone from the crowd called, and the phones were turning to them. Kon smiled sheepishly, glancing away, and Tim thought to squirm free of his arms. This had to look ridiculous.

“Probably thank him, Red,” Cassie said, folding her arms. Her grin was something wicked, and Tim glared at her. He could hear people mumbling over it, some of them too focused on Cassie herself or Bart to care- but a few seemed far too interested in what she had said. “He’ll like it.”

There were confused glances, and Tim wanted to punch her. From day one, she had teased him about Kon. Endlessly. And sure, that was what friends were for- but her goading was public, had been what had alerted the rest of the team to the relationship.

Well, if she wanted to play chicken, Tim wasn’t one to back down. Without much thought he turned, one hand leaving it’s hold around Kon’s shoulder to grip his chin, hold him steady as he leaned in. He kissed him slow, tilting his head until his neck ached, but it gave him the perfect angle, let him press his tongue past Kon’s lips, deep to move along his own. He felt Kon’s arms tighten around him, felt more then heard the groan rumble up from his chest. He shivered, and tried to lift himself up higher, felt like he was nearly climbing the other teen’s body, the hand on his chin moving back into his hair, tugging gently.

Tim heard the gasps from the crowd, the people screaming out to them- and god, where people _cheering?_ \- but he didn’t care for a moment, too caught up in it. When he did pull back, however, Kon’s breaths were coming quickly against his lips, and Tim grinned.

“Thanks for the save, Superbabe,” he offered, and he didn’t need to turn to see Cassie grinning like a triumphant fool.

He’d see that same grin the next day, when every tabloid in the area boasted the titles about the _teen hero romance_ , and when he realized the countless videos of the kiss, and his calling Kon _Superbabe_ were plastered all over every piece of social media.


	102. I Will Lose You (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [hanni-babe](http://hanni-babe.tumblr.com/) asked: "he bruce/dick 25 bring the pain babe bring it"
> 
> pssst everyone the prompt is “we can never be together” kiss

Dick’s fingers flexed, his hand so close to Bruce’s cheek, could feel the heat from it, if he hadn’t had his gloves on. He wanted to touch, always wanted to- but without his suit, he lacked the courage now.

Not after Bruce had accepted the touch, the kiss, in the quiet early hours of the sleeping Manor, and then pushed him off, as if Dick was a disease.

Bruce’s guantletted hand was there in a flash, gripping Dick’s wrist tightly, keeping his hand from pressing to his exposed cheek. His mouth was set in a firm line, and Dick knew his eyes- those eyes, _those damn eyes_ \- were cold, hard behind his cowl.

“Don’t,” he said, voice deep, gravely, and Dick almost shivered. He frowned, himself, tugging his hand free, letting it fall to his side. He wanted to follow it, to curl up on the cold pavement. Had wanted to do nothing but bury himself since Bruce’s rejection nights ago.

“Give me a chance,” he whispered, the words slow, careful. He didn’t want his voice to waver. “Just…a chance.”

“Now’s not the time-”

“It’s never the time with you!” Dick squared his shoulders, tossing his arms out to the side. “I try to talk to you, and you avoid me. Doesn’t matter when, it seems you’ve just been too damn busy the past few days.” He reached out, jabbed his finger against the bat symbol on Bruce’s chest. “Goddamn do I have to make an appointment with you, Bruce?”

Codenames be damned, the city was dead around them, and Dick didn’t care. Bruce owed him a conversation, at least. Maybe if he’d only shoved Dick off, he could understand this avoidance. But he’d _kissed him back_ , he’d clutched at him for a precious few moments like Dick was the center of his world, before he’d thrown him entirely from orbit.

“Just give me a fucking reason why,” Dick continued, felt his voice choking up, “why we can’t-”

The words broke off as Bruce surged forward, shoving Dick back the two steps to the wall behind him. He boxed him in, slamming one arm up against the old wall, the other gripping Dick’s chin tightly as he leaned in, covered his mouth with his own. Dick felt his stomach undiluting, his knees going weak, and he reached out, clutched at Bruce’s cape as teeth dragged on his lower lip, as a tongue pressed into his mouth, pinning his own.

He groaned around it, the hand on his chin moving back to tug at his hair, tilting his head slightly so Bruce could test each point of his teeth. Dick trembled, gasped when Bruce pulled back, was sure his pupils had gone to pinpoints and wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“Because you matter,” Bruce offered, his hand loosening, leaving Dick’s hair. It stroked down to his cheek, the sharp points of his glove almost intimate. “Because you matter, and if I love you, I’m going to lose you.”

Dick stared at him, wanted so badly to shove the cowl back, to see his eyes. To know what was there. Reading nothing but the line of Bruce’s mouth, it was hard. Something he’d learned to do over the years, when he had no other option- but even as an adult, Dick didn’t like it.

Dick let go of his cape with one hand, reaching up, tracing the seam of the cowl. His plea was silent, one he expected to go ignored- after all, it wasn’t safe- but Bruce reached up, tugged it back, stared at Dick with those naked blue eyes.

They ached. And Dick’s chest began to cave in.

“Bruce-”

“The media will eat you alive,” he whispered, “Pick you to the bone. Slander you, over what you were when this started- my _son_ , Dick.” Dick’s heart skipped a beat, and he was sure there was a special sort of hell reserved for him, for loving the fact that Bruce could call him that, and wanting him anyway.

He was beyond caring.

“Not to mention what will happen to you, out here. You… won’t be able to leave this at home. You’ll love me here, as Batman, just as you would without the damn mask. I can’t have every criminal in Gotham looking at you like the golden ticket to me…”

Bruce glanced away, and Dick was shaking his head.

“I don’t care,” he offered, his gloved hand moving back, through Bruce’s hair. “Bruce, I-”

“If I love you, _I will lose you_.” He shook his head, leaning in, pressing his forehead to Dick’s. His eyes were squeezed shut, for a moment, and Dick knew Bruce didn’t have to continue. He knew what he meant.

If Bruce loved him, he’d curse him. Because everyone Bruce loved, in the end, found a way into an early grave. Found that the only way to stay alive was to sever all ties, to put the world between them.

If he loved Dick, he’d kill him. And no matter how cocky Dick was, he couldn’t fight Bruce on that. Not when he knew there was an air of truth to it. He’d seen it. The love Bruce had for his family was enough to bring the curse about, in lesser ways.

Dick felt Bruce tremble, and he hooked his arm around his shoulders, clutching him tightly.

“I can’t lose you,” Bruce whispered, “You deserve the world.” Silently, it was you are the world. Dick knew. Knew because he’d seen Bruce give him those looks, like the very universe they were a part of started and ended with him. Those looks that had started all this, the crazy beating of his heart up into his throat, ever since he was a boy. 

A few costumes and a knew mantle later, and it didn’t matter. Dick still wanted to be the center of his world.

He wanted to tell Bruce he could handle it. Handle it however it had to be. If Bruce loved him in secret, for his safety- for public image, so be it. Dick would take it, knowing he had his heart.

But it was a lie, and he knew it. Secrecy would kill him. Seeing Bruce Wayne put on his playboy show would leave him broken. Seeing Batman act as if he had never wanted to kiss him would shatter his ribs.

Dick Grayson had enough lies in his life. He couldn’t add to them.

There were endless reasons, and whether based in any sort of rational thought or not, Dick knew it didn’t matter. Because Bruce’s mind was made up. Because, come the end of the night, he would protect his little robin, even if it meant hurting him, and denying himself.

Dick squeezed his eyes shut, surging forward, kissing Bruce again. This time, it was desperate, needy- the kind of kiss that was somehow a first and a last. A first of truths, a last, because Dick knew he never had a chance.

It was better that way, if Bruce couldn’t love him. Then maybe Dick might find some sort of happiness, instead of the hell the man was sure he’d bring down on him.

And all Bruce wanted was for his little bird to be happy.


	103. Get Mad More Often (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "jaytim first kiss"

Tim tossed his staff down, glaring at the man who was pulling his helmet off, crouching down by the unconscious body on the ground.

“You could have killed him!” he yelled, watching as blood from the bullet wound trickled down onto the pavement. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Not where I hit him. And I hit him exactly where I wanted to.” He glanced up, his mouth set in a scowl. “You could thank me, replacement. I saved your ass.”

Tim growled. He was sick of Jason. Sick of the damn replacement title he’d given him. Sick of the fact that, even if Tim had been nothing but nice to him, the man seemed to have something against him.

Sure, he’d taken up the Robin mantel after Jason had died. But Batman had _needed_ a Robin. It wasn’t personal. Tim had looked up to Jason, when he’d been young, been Robin. Had looked up to both him and Dick, before he knew exactly who they were.

“I don’t need to be saved,” Tim retorted, as Jason pulled something from the man’s jacket and pocketed it in his own.

Jason snorted. “Not the way I see it. B must have gotten desperate when he brought you on. At least you’ve improved.” He stood up, and Tim wished he hadn’t thrown his staff aside. He wanted to smack Jason’s smug face in with it.

“At least I can stay _alive_ ,” Tim countered, and then instantly regretted it. He clamped his lips shut as Jason glared at him, stalking over. “Fuck, Jay, I didn’t mean-”

“Yeah, you did,” Jason offered, grabbing him by his cape and jerking him closer. Tim expected Jason to punch him, to leave his lip split, tongue bleeding. He expected a world of pain, for a few seconds-

Instead, he got the older man leaning over him, pressing his mouth over his. Tim went utterly rigid for a moment, until the tension in him began to ease, leak out, from his shoulders down to his fingertips. His hands swayed for a moment, before they reached out, found Jason’s leather jacket and clutched at it. The older man pulled him in closer, forced his had back, and Tim made a little noise, felt his knees going weak. He clutched tighter.

When Jason finally pulled back, he gave Tim a gentle shove, forcing him to let go of his jacket, to stumble back a step. He looked the smaller man over, before his mouth set into a cocky smirk.

“Get mad more often,” he whispered, “It’s kind of becoming on you.” He turned then, walking off, leaving Tim to scramble for his staff, jabbing it down on the pavement and leaning against it for a moment.

No way Jason had just kissed him. No way. Jason hated him, he was sure-

Except that maybe he teased him because he didn’t.

Which was stupid, and childish-

And Tim couldn’t help but almost hoped that was the case. Because he wanted nothing more then to have Jason kiss him again like that- which was a bit terrifying, if he was honest with himself.

He didn’t really want to be honest, in that moment.


	104. Impressed (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "on the job / first kiss jaydick"

Jason winced as Alfred finished the last stitch near his shoulder blade. The man smiled, patting his other shoulder.

“There we are Master Jason, all done.” He reached for the bandage, taping it on, as Dick watched, folding his arms and smiling.

“Didn’t hear a single peep out of you, little wing. I’m impressed. Pretty sure the first time Alfred patched me up, I fussed the whole time.” Alfred chuckled, standing up.

“Master Richard is quite right.” He gave Jason’s shoulder another squeeze. “I’ll go alert Master Bruce that you’re right as rain.”

He walked off, towards the man control room of the cave. Jason rolled his shoulders, fighting down the wince over feeling the stitches tug, and glanced down at his yellow cape, sitting in his lap. His hands had wrung it tightly, the whole time.

He didn’t want Dick to see. But the older man was walking over, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“You’re getting the hang of it out there, kid,” he offered, and Jason glanced up at him, smiling. His stomach did flips every time Dick praised him, to the point that he felt almost sick in that moment. He wrung the cape tighter between his hands, from nerves now.

Trying to ground himself. Dick had no right being so pretty, standing over him, that large sliver of his chest visible in his suit. No right being so damn attractive.

Jason figured he had no right noticing, either.

“Maybe if you’re up to it tomorrow, we can stretch that shoulder out. You and me, one-on-one.” Dick grinned, and Jason could only nod, dizzy. Oh god, sparring with Dick was always a distraction, the way he moved like perfect water, liquid in the air. The way he laughed when Jason got a hit in, smiling at him. The way he called him little wing and told him to _hit him again_.

Dick leaned down, kissing Jason’s forehead, and with a final ruffle of his dark hair, was pulling back.

“Get some sleep, little wing.” He smiled, all sweet, and walked off, leaving Jason to sit there and try and not hyperventilate, wringing his cape to the point that he worried he might tear it.


	105. Cop/BadBoy AU pt5 (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "jaydick badboy/cop au in which jay runs into dick outside a dunkin' donuts and rags on him for being so cliché. dick shrugs a shoulder nonchalantly and remarks that he won't be sharing any of his boston kremes with jay then (but ofc he ends up sharing them anyway)."

Jason was rounding the corner, pushing his sunglasses up, one hand shifting under his jacket, zipping up the inner pocket. He had a wad of cash stashed there, having just finished a deal- he wasn’t partial to deals in broad daylight, but he knew the client well enough that he felt secure going right into his home to supply him.

He was passing a local bakery and coffee shop, when through the window he noticed a familiar face. Jason paused, grinning to himself, before detouring inside.

He made a beeline towards one of the small tables by the window, where he found Dick sitting there, happily munching on a doughnut in peace. He grabbed the chair opposite him, pulling it out and slouching down into it with his grin. “Hey there pretty boy.”

Dick tensed for a moment, before he relaxed, slightly, realizing it was just Jason. “Hi,” he offered, smiling at him way too sweetly. God, this guy was going to kill Jason.

“Pretty cliche of you,” Jason pointed out, “Hanging out in a doughnut shop.” Dick rolled his eyes, taking another bite of his doughnut and ignoring Jason completely. Jason leaned forward, elbows on the table, cocking his head slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re not gonna share.”

“Maybe if you were nice,” Dick said, staring right at Jason, before taking another bite. Jason chuckled.

“Aw c’mon babe. Boston Creme are my favorite.” Dick rolled his eyes, but he smiled again, passing the doughnut across to Jason, who happily took a bite. A bit of the filling spilled onto his lips, and as he passed the pastry back to Dick he licked it off. Dick choked for a moment, his cheeks tinging pink. Jason noticed, his smirk returning. “You okay over there, _officer_?” 

“I, uh…yeah. Yeah. All good.” Dick popped the rest of the doughnut in his mouth, before washing it down with his coffee, trying to distract himself. He was sure it was pathetic, how quickly his mind had thought of Jason licking something else off his lips. He shifted, trying to distract himself, was fairly sure it wouldn’t work unless he actually removed himself from Jason’s presence for a minute. “Do you uh…want a coffee?”

“What a gentleman,” Jason remarked, “Vanilla latte. I’m feeling strangely sweet today.” Dick’s cheeks tinged pinker, and he pushed his chair back, quickly moving across the shop. Jason watched, shamelessly, at the sway of Dick’s hips, and sucked on his own tongue. Maybe he could convince Dick to drop by that night- was he on lunch, or did his shift start later? Jason wasn’t sure, it was ever-changing. That was what he got, for being a rookie.

He seemed pretty brazen though, considering he didn’t really seem to care who saw him socializing with Jason. And Jason knew he had a reputation. Granted, there wasn’t a clean cop in Gotham, he was sure. But getting Jason in some trouble might still be a good move for plenty of the cops.

He wondered if Dick even knew how serious it was. If he realized exactly the statement he was making, hanging out with Jason.

Jason mused he had to have an idea- after all, he’d left Dick in his apartment to run outside and sell. The guy wasn’t an idiot. He had to know what he was doing.

“Here.” Jason glanced up, pulled from his thoughts, found Dick standing in front of him, holding out his coffee. Jason smiled, taking it, letting his fingers brush along Dick’s for a moment too long.

“Thanks sugar.” He took a sip, let it nearly scald his tongue, not caring. He could use the boost. Dick had settled back down, picked up his own coffee and was nursing it. “This your lunch break?”

“Late breakfast,” he admitted, pulling his phone from his pocket and glancing at it. “Shift starts soon.”

“When are you done?”

“Pending any disasters, nine.”

Jason grinned. “Come over for a drink after.” Dick sipped at his coffee, and Jason leaned onto the table again, “and by a drink, I mean let me get you tipsy and suck you off. I could go for that, right now.”

Jason hadn’t missed the look Dick had given him, earlier, when he’d licked his lips. And by the shade of pink his cheeks turned, he was absolutely right on the cop’s thought process.

“Or I could just take a ride in your car,” Jason mused, “and give you a little sample.” Dick choked, and Jason took a sip of his coffee. He was going to push the matter, when he felt his own phone vibrating. He pulled it out, unlocking a message, and frowned. Business. Granted, he never wanted to turn down a deal- but damn, what timing.

And what was with these people wanting to do this in broad daylight? He was going to have to set goddamn hours at this rate.

“Maybe a rain check,” he offered, standing up. “Business calls.” He shoved his phone into his pocket, and leaned over, sinking his hand into Dick’s hair and tugging him in for a kiss. It was quick but messy, over the top, Jason knew. But he didn’t care. He almost wanted to put on a little show for the passerbys.

Dick kissed him back, though, grabbing at his jacket and keeping Jason in the kiss a few seconds longer then he originally planned. When Jason did pull back, he dared to give Dick an honest smile.

“Thanks for the coffee,” he said, raising the cup gently. “I’ll expect you after nine.” He winked, then turned, heading towards the door of the coffeeshop. Just as he was walking out, a set of uniformed officers walked in, and by the look they gave him, they had noticed he and Dick’s kiss through the window.

Fine by Jason. Maybe marking the rookie so openly would keep him out of trouble, instead of getting him into it. After all, Jason never had any qualms over getting his hands dirty.


	106. Fantasies (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "When Damian going through puberty (extremely proud boy) nothing makes him more frustrated and mad than the fact that he seems to be unable to jerk off to the thought of fucking Grayson, in his fantasies it always Grayson who ends up fucking him"
> 
> I’mgoingtohellDamianislikesixteenwhathaveIdone

It always ended up like this, and Damian _hated_ it.

His sheets were tangled around his legs, partially kicked off, torn from his torso and waist, his hand around his erection, working in quick strokes that had his chest heaving. He was still damp from his shower, still felt the aches in his muscles from patrol. He didn’t care. He liked that, liked the way it made him feel strangely tingly, underneath the surface.

His eyes were screwed closed, and he could picture Dick there, in his mind. Dick with his pretty eyes and his perfect mouth, a mouth he had pressed to Damian’s neck, sucking into his skin, leaving bruises. Damian sucked on his tongue, squeezed just below the head of his cock, tipped his head back as if Dick was actually there, as if he could actually give him access to his throat.

He imagined Dick’s lips were kiss swollen, wet and perfect. He imagined Dick straddling him, grinding down into him- tipping his head back in pure bliss as he eased himself down over Damian’s cock-

Except it didn’t seem right, and it never brought Damian over the edge. No matter how he tried to picture it, no matter how hot Dick looked behind his eyes, or how sure he was that his body was a gift from some divinity. It always ended with Damian whining in frustration, teetering close to the edge but unable to push himself over-

Until he changed the fantasy. Until Dick was between his thighs, not straddling them. Until Dick was sliding inch by inch of his cock into Damian’s body, and his copper, scarred legs were curling around his waist, locking there as Dick fucked him down into the mattress, covered his body with his own, like a protective shadow.

Damian never got far into this fantasy. He was arching, orgasm spilling up over his knuckles and onto his belly far before he ever got to the idea of Dick coming inside him.

He lay there, panting, grimacing at the mess he now had to clean up. Over the fact that his fantasies never played out the way he was sure he was supposed to want. Why couldn’t he, for once, just get off to the idea of Dick riding him? Wasn’t that what he wanted, after all?

Why did it always come down to Dick covering his body with his own, making him feel small and utterly open?

Damian hated that it always had to come to this- but _god_ , he could admit that he loved the toe curling orgasm he always got from picturing Dick fucking him.


	107. Roughed Up (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "I am literally begging you here, hell if you have a paypal i will pay you to make the Jay with a crowbar a real fic please. I will throw money at this fic"

Tim was lucky Jason hadn’t torn the bed apart, getting him there. Lucky he hadn’t reached for the pillows for whatever reason. Lucky that he was too distracted kissing his mouth until it was swollen, biting at his neck, his nipples, any inch of skin he could get between his obnoxiously and deliciously sharp teeth.

Too distracted sinking as many fingers as he could into Tim’s body. And truth be told, that was when Tim nearly forgot about the crow bar he’d tossed under their pillows, earlier that day, when Jason had left the apartment briefly. Almost forgot that his lover had annoyed him to the point that he was pissed.

Almost, but not quite.

“Fuck babybird,” Jason breathed, twisting his fingers as Tim squirmed, one hand sliding beneath the pillows. “You ready for me yet?”

“May-be.” The word came out in a sing-song breath, as Tim pulled the sleek metal from beneath the pillows. He’d spent a hell of a time cleaning it, before stashing it. Like hell he was going to put anything filthy other then Jason in his bed.

“What the hell,” Jason started, voice losing all power as Tim pressed his mouth to the cool metal. His tongue darted out, licking up along it, pausing to flick twice towards the end curve. Then back down it went.

Jason shuddered. Yeah, that shouldn’t have been hot, he was sure. Somewhere in his brain, he figured he should be pissed at Tim. He’d known he’d annoyed him earlier but damn, really- a _crowbar_?

But Jason was having the opposite reaction. His cock jumped at the sight, already achingly hard, and his fingers in Tim’s body curled, hitting his prostate. Tim groaned, pressing his mouth to the crowbar again, and Jason felt his heart rate rising.

“You wouldn’t even know how to use that thing,” Jason teased, and god, _what was he doing_? This shouldn’t be fun.

Tim’s eyes lit up. “Think I can’t give a real beating, Jay?” Jason sneered. He glanced at the crowbar for a moment, before he was pulling his fingers out of Tim’s body. He grabbed the smaller man, Tim gasping, and dragged him as he moved to the edge of the bed, sitting carefully. He had Tim sprawled over his lap a moment later, the crowbar tumbling from his fingers to lay next to Jason.

“You wanna beat something, babybird? You’ve gotta take a beating first.”

Then, without warning, Jason’s hand lifted and smacked down on Tim’s bare ass. The younger man cried out, head jerking up, as Jason hit him again, and again. His hand was large, leaving behind red splotches on Tim’s pale ass.

“Jason!” he cried out, his hands fisting in the sheets. “What…are-you-AH!” Another cry, as Jason smacked the top of his thigh, then realigned to hit his ass again.

“Prove you can handle it,” Jason said, as the sound of his hand connecting with hot flesh filled the room. “Then maybe you can play with bigboy toys, Timmy.” Another smack, and Tim screwed his eyes shut, whining as the sting stopped fading between hits. It became constant, spiking with the contact.

At some point, his hands left the sheets, gripped at Jason’s naked thigh, blunt nails digging in. Jason hissed but only hit him harder, until Tim was wailing with each moment of contact. His ass was so red it surpassed the flush on his cheeks- and Jason realized they were wet. Realized Tim was sobbing with each breath.

He reached down, rubbed his hand over one of Tim’s ass cheeks, felt the heat the hits had left. “Babe,” he whispered, and Tim was trembling. He squirmed, and Jason felt the younger man’s erection- that it hadn’t diminished in the least. And his moment of worry was gone.

Jason grabbed him again, shifting him off his lap as he got up on his knees. “Hands and knees,” he whispered, and Tim scrambled to obey, spreading his thighs as if he was offering himself to Jason. His cock was heavy between them, leaking down onto their sheets.

Jason grabbed the crow bar, bending down to place a kiss to the sensitive, red skin. Tim gave a low, tiny whine, and then jerked his hips forward when Jason’s lips were replaced by the cool metal of the crowbar. He ran its length over Tim’s ass- tapped once, gently, and Tim hissed, worrying on his lower lip.

“Imagine if I beat that pretty ass of yours with this,” Jason breathed, “You’d be so bruised for me, babybird.” Tim whined, and Jason pressed it between his thighs, so the metal lined up with the underside of his cock. Tim shuddered, as Jason rubbed the smooth metal against him.

“Beg,” he breathed, and Tim’s mouth fell open.

“Jay please, please. I took them-all,” he swallowed, thickly, “Hit me again, I don’t care, but please, _please_ fuck me Jay I can’t I _need it_ I need-” he was cut off when Jason pulled the crowbar back, tossing it aside and lined up with Tim’s slick, stretched hole. He pushed in with a single thrust, and Tim wailed, tossing his head back, pushing until his heated, sore ass was pressing against Jason’s pelvis.

Jason pulled back, thrust back in, watched as Tim’s cherry red ass moved with each thrust, begging him to move faster, to fuck harder. He reached down, palmed one cheek, squeezed- and Tim yelped, jerked his body towards the touch. The older man grinned, thrusting faster, already so worked up from having Tim squirming on his lap-

He lifted his hand, smacking Tim’s ass again. A pure scream, ripped right from Tim’s throat. Jason gave him another, and the second scream ended in a loud, pathetic moan, an obscene sound as Tim clenched around him tightly, cock untouched but pulsing as his orgasm spilled down onto their sheets.

Jason was panting, from excitement more then anything else. He squeezed Tim’s ass, kneaded the flesh, grinning to himself. “Came from me hitting you?” he breathed, and Tim choked on a sob. Jason leaned over him, pressing completely against his warm ass with each thrust into him, found his orgasm when he hit Tim’s overly-sensitive prostate and the younger man clenched up on him again.

He swore Tim came again, dry, as his own orgasm filled him.

When Jason pulled out, he dropped to the bed next to Tim. He reached for him, dragged him down with him, gathering him up against his chest and stroking each knot of his spine, as Tim sniffled, snuggling closer.

“You alright?” Tim nodded. “Too much?” A shake of his head. Jason smirked. “I’m pretty impressed. I hit hard, babybird.”

“Maybe I like it hard.” Jason laughed, glancing at the crowbard that was laying next to him.

“Well then, just have this damn thing make an appearance anytime you want to get a little roughed up.” He lifted it, and Tim reached for it, snatching it away from him. He rolled to the edge of the bed, wincing as his weight fell partially for a moment on his ass- god he would have some bruises tomorrow, he knew. He’d have to make a point of having Jason see. Maybe he’d let him take a few pictures.

You know. For the next time he was away.

He carefully reached over the edge of the bed, tucking the crowbar beneath it. When he rolled back to curl up against Jason, the older man had a pleased but almost surprised smile on his face.

“You constantly surprise me, Tim.”

The younger man grinned. He never wanted to be boring.


	108. Safeword (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "what if Damian's bdsm safe word in dD is "Richard""

This is, tbh, about the best damn idea ever Anon. Have some smut for your A+ thinking <3

Damian groaned, his hands bound behind his back. The rope was black, nylon, tight enough and had been there long enough that his fingers had begun to go numb. Not that it mattered much, he didn’t need them.

He had his face pressed into a pillow, head turned, his knees digging into the mattress, trying to keep himself up right. The only thing really keeping him from collapsing were Dick’s hands on his hips, holding him as he fucked into his body for- what, the second?- no, no, _third_ time that night.

Damian was losing count. He was losing his mind. His body was overly sensitive- god, how many times had he come? He wasn’t even sure. Couldn’t keep track- couldn’t even tell anymore if the clenching in his body was an orgasm or just another pleasure peak before the end result.

Each thrust into his body had him gasping, moaning loudly, pathetic sounding. Behind the black blindfold tied around his head, his eyes were squeezed shut. He hadn’t been able to see in a good half hour. Dick had secured the piece of cloth before he’d worked him up for this current round, had cut off his vision and then held him on his lap as he smack his ass until it was red.

For a second time, that night.

Damian thrashed, body clenching tightly around Dick’s cock, as he thought he came again. His body had nothing left, at this point, except for a trickle of stickiness that made it’s way down his cock. His belly was stained from the orgasms earlier.

Dick was cursing behind him, and Damian tried to clung to the words, to grasp them as his body moved into an over-sensitive hype, as each thrust felt like heaven and hell in a sickening cocktail.

“Filthy,” Dick breathed, and Damian shivered, hips rolling back to meet his thrusts despite the pain. Dick reached out, clutched at the rope that bound his hands, jerked him up as he tilted his own head back. “Just a little dog, aren’t you, D?”

Damian shuddered. A whine left his lips, and god, he felt like he could orgasm again, like it would utterly kill him. His shoulders ached from the pull on his arms, as Dick tugged again, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm, moving erratic, faster.

“You want me to come,” Dick breathed, and Damian let his wet, swollen mouth fall open. All he could do was gasp, whine- words seemed past him. Dick grinned. “Wanna be over flowing, don’t you babybat?”

Damian’s body clenched around him, in response, and Dick groaned, thrusting in a few, finals times, before he stilled, filling Damian again. The teen felt the rush of wet heat, felt it as Dick pulled out of him and it dripped down onto his sticky thighs.

Again, not the first time that night.

Behind him, Dick was panting, reaching forward and grabbing a handful of Damian’s ass, kneading the red, abused fleshed. Damian yelped, felt a full body tremble moving through him.

He couldn’t- not again- too much-

“R-Richard,” he breathed, and suddenly that hand was gone, and he was allowed to collapse down to the bed. He felt Dick moving, hands against his wrists, and then the rope was loosening, being pulled away. Damian pulled his wrists free, squirmed on the bed until he was tugging the blindfold off, squinting into the light of the room and inhaling deeply.

“You okay?” Dick whispered, reaching out to stroke back Damian’s sweat damp hair. The teen swallowed thickly, then nodded, once. He felt dizzy, and he must have looked pale, because Dick was guiding him back down into the pillows, pulling the blindfold from his fingers. “Lay down kid, you look a little ghostly.”

Damian didn’t disagree, pressing his face into a pillow, as Dick stretched out next to him. He rubbed his arm, tentatively, before Damian huffed, cracking open one eye to look at him.

“Get over here you big idiot.” Dick grinned, squirming in close, wrapping an arm around his lover and tugging Damian against his chest. The teen sighed, nuzzling into him, as Dick rubbed gently circles over his spine, over the scars that broke the copper tone to his skin.

“I guess my name is a pretty good safe word,” Dick mused, as he kissed Damian’s hair. “It’s pretty jarring to hear you say anything other then Grayson.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but said nothing. He didn’t have the strength for any sort of banter, in that moment. Truth be told, he just wanted Dick to hold him, to talk at him- for once. His voice was soothing, even if Damian claimed his endless talking was annoying.

But coming down from that, well- Damian just wanted the comfort of him being there.


	109. Single Dad AU pt10 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Single Dad AU: Bruce calls Dick to invite him to lunch, Dick gets lost and runs into gossiping office people speculating about who's keeping the boss so /happy/."

“My meeting is at two,” Bruce was saying, as Dick crossed the street with a crowd. “Come have lunch with me.”

“I guess I can squeeze it into my schedule,” Dick teased, one hand working over the strap to his bag. He’d been out all morning on his job hunt. Not that it was looking particularly good at all. “Meet you at your office?”

“Conference room C, on the eleventh floor, actually. I have some gentlemen coming in to sign some papers. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Dick grinned to himself, pausing at the corner with the crowd, waiting for the chance to cross. “It’s a date, hot stuff.”

He heard Bruce laugh, and god, did he love that sound. So much.

He said his goodbye as he crossed the street, shoving his phone back into his pocket. It wasn’t a terribly long walk to the heart of the city, where Wayne Enterprises stood, and Dick was there fairly quickly. He paused for a moment, before going inside, to run his hands through his hair, try to fix what the wind had done to it. It was strangely chilly, and he realized that summer was about over- they’d be getting Autumn in Gotham soon.  
Dick wondered if Damian had ever seen the colors on the leaves change- let alone jumped in a pile of them. Considering the boy’s age, and his prior living arrangements, he assumed not. He would have to make a point of changing that.  
Dick was smiling to himself as he walked in. If Jason could see him, peer into his thoughts, he knew his friend would be teasing him about his attachment to the kid. But with that big grin of his.

Jay knew how much Damian meant to Dick now, too. The whole family.

Besides, were it not for the toddler, Dick would have never met his father.

Dick got on the elevator and stared at the buttons. Damn. Had Bruce said the tenth or the eleventh floor? He sucked on his lip, then hit the ten, riding up with the crowd. He stepped off with a few other people, glancing around the winding halls. Okay. Conference room C. Couldn’t be that hard.

Dick started down a hallway, realized they were all office, and promptly turned around, heading back. He took another turn, but the conference rooms were all numbered, not lettered. 

He paused, sighing, turning again and heading back to the elevators. He tried to assess his options there, as the doors opened and two young women stepped off, both holding coffee cups.

“I’m telling you, I heard him laughing right before I knocked. Laughing Jules. Can you believe it?”

Dick paused, glancing at them.

“Someone’s gotta be keeping Mr. Wayne happy.”

Dick turned entirely, forgetting for a moment that he was lost, and deciding instead to follow, a step behind, with the rest of the crowd, listening.

“You think so? I haven’t seen any visitors or anything lately.”

“Maybe he’s keeping her on the down-low. You know. Privacy and all.” The two laughed.

“She must be something else. I mean, to get _Bruce Wayne’s_ attention.”

Dick couldn’t help but smile to himself, his cheeks burning. He forced himself to stop, to turn back to the elevator, to put his curiosity to rest and look for-

He nearly collided with someone when he turned around, and felt a hand reaching for his wrist, grabbing him to steady him.

 _Bruce_.

“I wondered where you were,” the older man mused, and Dick smiled nervously.

“Sorry, I...got a little lost. Couldn’t remember if you said tenth or eleventh floor.” He reached up, brushing his own hair back, and Bruce just smiled at him. The older man leaned in, pressed a kiss to his forehead, before turning him, slipping an arm around his shoulders.

“No matter. What do you want to eat? I’m starving.” Dick walked with him, changing a single glance back, seeing the two women staring at them openly.

Somehow, that made Dick smile all the harder.


	110. Phases (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "ok so normally kids/teens will go through phases (emo, punk, rave, what have you) as they grow up, right? Ok im thinking that like since damian didn't have a normal childhood, like at all, that at one point during his teenage years he went through all of his "phases" over the course of just like two months to make up for all the missed time."

I talked about this one to my girlfriend and couldn’t keep a straight phase and I just...after finishing up that beast of a fic today, I need some silliness and boy does this fit what I need.  
Dick was sitting happily at the kitchen table, nursing an overly sweetened cup of coffee- exactly how he liked it- thinking that staying the night at the Manor after Patrol had been a great idea. Alfred always made great coffee.

Plus he was at work on breakfast right now, which had Dick’s stomach growling in anticipation.

He was mid-sip when Damian walked into the kitchen, clicking his tongue and saying very flatly, “Grayson.”

Dick choked.

“Dami...what are you _wearing_?”

Damian paused, glancing down at himself. Dick was pretty sure those were leggings, tucked into his green Robin boots. And his t-shirt was long, cut off one shoulder- what did it say? _Cradle of Filth_? Was that a band?

“Clothing?” He asked, walking towards the table and pulling a chair out. When he sat down, Dick could see his eyes were lined, smudged- way too much eyeliner, and he’d painted his nails black. _What in all hell_?

Alfred turned, and if he had any reaction on Damian’s clothing, he didn’t say a word about it. “Coffee, Master Damian?”

“Absolutely.” Alfred fetched him a cup, leaving it black and placing it in front of him. Dick was hypnotized trying to count the bracelets on Damian’s wrists- god, did one have spikes? Was he dreaming? And was he...was he wearing a collar?

“Will you be having breakfast?”

“Maybe later,” Damian said, standing up with his mug. “I wanted to talk to father.” He glanced back at Dick, gave him a little half smile, and walked out with his mug.

Not even half a second later, “Alfred what the _hell_ was that?” Alfred didn’t glance back as he moved eggs from the frying pan onto a plate.  
“What was what, Master Dick?”

“That. Damian. Is it Halloween? Did I miss something?” Alfred chuckled, turning and placing the plate in front of him.

“You forget what it was like to be a teenager, Dick. They go through...phases. It seems Master Damian is simply beginning his.”

Dick gawked, and Alfred kept his smile.

“You’ll see, it won’t last. You have to remember being a teenagers, after all.”

Dick still said nothing, glancing at his plate and trying to reconcile with the little goth teen that had just sat next to him, and the fact that it was Damian.

*

Barely a week later, Dick found himself again in the kitchen, enjoying his coffee. And when Damian entered the room, he expected to be confronted with another display of overly black clothing-

He was very, very long.

He was wearing leggings again, and Dick was wondering if this was a trend for guys he had utterly missed- bursts of annoying cosmic pinks and purples and blues. His sunglasses were too large- and did he even need them inside the Manor?- and his hoodie was far too long, and pink, of all things. With white polka dots.

“Grayson.”

“Dam...ian...” He lifted his coffee, taking a sip to keep from saying anything else, as Damian circled the table in his overly bright and large sneakers. He grabbed a piece of toast from a plate on the counter, holding it between his teeth as he pulled his phone from his hoodie, began furiously texting.

Dick watched for a moment, before,

“Damian...are you...texting someone?”

Damian pulled the toast from between his teeth. “Drake’s Titan friends invited me out later,” he said, rather dryly.

“...And you’re going?” He shrugged a shoulder.

“I guess. It’s a shame to look this good and not go out.” He smiled, before stuffing his phone into his hoodie and taking a bite of the toast, walking towards the doorway. He gave Dick a half wave, not watching, and Alfred a nod as the man walked in.

When he was gone, Dick launched right in. “I don’t even know what phase this is, but Alfred- _he’s hanging out with people_?”

“Ah, you mean Master Timothy and his friends. Yes. It seems Damian has taken a bit of a reluctant liking to them, even if they are older then him. I thought it was good, for he and Tim, to bond.”

Dick simply stared at the man. Definitely dreaming.

*

It seemed now, every morning Dick found himself in the Manor’s kitchen, he braced himself to meet a different Damian. He had seen what he thought was just about everything, some phases seeming to come back- nothing had braced him to find Damian with his mouth painted black and his eyes drawn out- which had been strangely attractive, in a horror-movie sort of way, and Dick hated himself for even thinking it.

Or when he’d worn his Robin boots and those ripped up leggings, and all those bright colors. His eyes had been painted in neons, which stood out bold against his darker skin. Turned out Tim was there, that morning, and had done it for him.  
So, at this point, Dick had seen it all. And he honestly didn’t know what to expect.  
So when Damian walked in that morning, in a pair of torn skinny jeans, a boring tshirt, and one of Dick’s old plaid shirts- well, he was underwhelmed. Entirely.  
“Morning,” Dick offered, and Damian stopped to stretch his arm up over his head, yawning. His hair was still tussled from his bed.

“Morning Grayson.” He walked over, settling in the chair next to him. Dick dared to glance at him, a few times, before Damian asked in a slightly annoyed and mostly sleepy voice, “Do I look strange?”

“You look normal,” Dick said, then, correcting himself, “Or well...boring.”

“-tt- this is comfortable.” He folded his arms on the table, leaning his head onto them.

“Long night?”

“I was at the tower with Drake and his friends. They had a marathon of some...series of movies about Dinosaurs?” Dick grinned.

“Jurassic Park?”

“Sure. Those. It went far later then I planned. There seemed to be a long pause after each film to debate what it would be like if a park really existed like that.” He yawned again. “Superboy flew me home.”

Dick laughed then, openly, and Damian scowled. “Sorry babybat. Just picturing you all Princess style in Kon’s arms. Oh god I bet Tim was thrilled.”

“It was not-I-Grayson!” He was sitting straight now, blushing. He scowled his arms, slumping back, trying to hide in the over sized shirt. Dick could see he was blushing.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I’m sure it was very...manly.” He chuckled to himself, sipping at his coffee, before, “So where the hell did you dig that shirt out from?”

“Your old closet.” The color on Damian’s cheeks darkened. “I...it’s comfortable.”He twisted in it, rubbing his hands- covered by the sleeves- over his face as if brushing sleep away.

Dick knew he inhaled. And he wondered if the shirt still smelled like him. And did Damian mean comfortable- or comforting and-

Oh. _Oh_.

He gave the youngest Robin a knowing smile and reached over, tussling his hair. “For the record,” he started, “and I’m going to hate saying this, but you look pretty cute in leggings, kid.”

Damian perked up then. “Really?”

Dick chuckled. “Yeah. But I like this look too.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Maybe I’ve got another shirt lying around you can wear. I mean, obviously just for no one else to see. We all know I’m out-dated with fashion.”

The smile Damian gave him was honest, thankful, and Dick felt his chest growing tight with affection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all had that goth phase...
> 
> And I'm laughing because as I'm posting this Cradle of Filth is playing...


	111. Attractive Stranger (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Omg i just helped you mug a person jaydick??"

“I saw you struggling with that man so I ran over and knocked him out…why are you taking his wallet…omg I just helped you mug a person”

Dick threw himself at the large man, grabbing at his arms as he wound back to swing at the rather attractive younger man in front of him. He’d been on his way back to his apartment when he’d notice the struggle- and well, he really wasn’t one to just sit by the sidelines.

The guy shrugged him off just as the attractive stranger- yeah, he was _definitely_ calling him that in his head- lunged forward, and got a good punch in to the guy. He went down. Hard.

“You okay? I saw you struggling with him and…” Dick trailed off as the guy crouched down, flipping open the guy’s jacket and pulling out his wallet. “…Oh my god, I just helped you mug someone.”

The guy chuckled, plucking the cash from the wallet and settling it back where he found it. He stood up, pocketing it, and swiped a hand back through his dark hair, the color broken by an almost white streak in his fringe.

“And I think you deserve a drink for helping me out,” he said. His smile was the kind Dick was sure the Devil himself boasted. “Name’s Jason.”

Well, at least he wasn’t attractive stranger now. Just attractive-Mugger-Jason-With-the-Devil’s-Smile. _So much better_.

“…Dick,” he finally offered, and Jason reached out and took his hand.

“Well, _wonder boy_ , lemme show you a good time.” He turned, tugging Dick by his hand, who followed with little resistance.

Oh god, what was he getting himself into?


	112. Oregano (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Jaytim "omg i thought you were just really secretive about selling oregano""

Tim was sitting cross legged on his bed, in his dorm room, highlighting in one of his books, when the door opened and closed with a slam. He glanced up, noticed his roommate Jason hurrying towards his mattress, scrambling his hands underneath it.

“Jay?” he asked, as Jason pulled a large plastic bag out from beneath it, filled with smaller bags. Inside each one was a green substance.

“Tim, I need your help.” He grabbed for Tim’s bag, shoving the bag within it, before tossing it on his bed and moving to his desk. He opened one drawer, pulling out something that looked like it was made of glass, and shoving it in the bag as well. “They’re doing room checks. Shit. Can you go to the library for a while with this?”

“Uh, why?” Tim closed his book, and Jason brushed a hand back through his hair.

“Because if I get busted with weed again they’re going to expel my ass.”

Tim gawked at him for a minute, before, “ _Weed_? I…I thought you were just really secretive about selling oregano!”

Jason laughed- until he realized, by Tim’s stare, that he was dead serious. “Oh…oh jeez Timmy. How did you not know?” 

Tim blushed, standing up and grabbing his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “One time,” he warned, “that’s it.”

“You’re a life saver pretty boy.” He threw an arm around his shoulders, kissing his war cheek and ruffling his hair. Tim was a good kid, they both knew no one would suspect him. “I owe you big time for this. Maybe when it’s all over you can give it a try.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Tim warned.

“Yeah well, I’ll find some way to repay you.” Tim stared at Jason- at his mouth, precisely- for probably a moment too long. Jason quirked up an eyebrow, and Tim knew he had noticed.

Without another word he turned and rushed for the door, his cheeks burning bright red and hot. Maybe he’d just sleep in the library that night.


	113. Maybe Next Time (Bruce&Damian)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Is that the neighbors confederate flag in our trash?? If you do platonic could it be like between bruce and damian father/son? Up to you!"
> 
> THE "&" MEANS IT IS NOT A SHIP.
> 
> There are somethings I could neverevereverever do.

“Is that the neighbor’s confederate flag?” Damian asked, as he walked up the long, circular drive of Wayne Manor. Titus was leading him proudly. Bruce glanced over from where he stood, placing a lid on one of the trash cans.

By neighbor, Damian meant the next wealthy family, which was miles upon miles away. But, well, the term seemed close enough.

“It is,” Bruce said, slamming the plastic lid down. He placed his hands on his hips, smiling to himself. Damian quirked up an eyebrow.

“Did you sneak onto their property and steal it?” Bruce was silent for a moment, and Damian corrected himself, “Did _Batman_ sneak onto their property and steal it?”

Bruce grinned. He actually grinned. “Perhaps.” Damian shifted for a moment, before returning the smile.

He’d had plenty of history lessons, he knew what that flag stood for.

He also knew that it went against nearly everything Bruce, and the rest of the family, held dear.

“Maybe next time,” Damian started, “He could use Robin’s help?”

Bruce’s smile turned almost proud, and he rested a hand on Damian’s shoulder, walking with him as Titus tugged on the leash gently, rather eager for his walk to begin. “I’m sure he could.”


	114. Yours First (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "We manage to meet at the bus stop every single day at the exact time and I’m getting kind of suspicious. Kontim bc we all know who's the stalker"

Kon shifted his hands into the pockets of his jeans, trying not to openly glance at the other boy who had settled down on the bench, so close to where Kon stood, leaning against the little covering to the bus stop.

He looked familiar. Not because Kon knew him, but because he had been showing up for the past two weeks easily at the same time, exactly when Kon did- or well, shortly after, usually.

The teen glanced up, behind his sunglasses, and Kon jerked his head back to the road. Don’t let on that he knew.

“Think it’s running late?” the guy asked, reaching up to tuck some of his long, dark hair behind his ear. He had pretty hair-

_Wow, okay, focus Kon._

“Maybe.” Kon leaned his head back, closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he glanced to his side- and the guy was openly looking at him. It gave Kon shivers- but strangely, not unenjoyable ones. “Uh…”

“Sorry,” he said, folding his hands between his knees. “You’re pretty hot, you know?”

Well, that was the last thing Kon expected to hear. He stared for a minute, and the guy’s cheeks turned pink- and wow, that was pretty too.

_Breathe dude, breathe._

“I’m Tim.” He pulled his sunglasses off, straightening up, offering a smile- and those eyes, they seemed to dance.

“I’m Kon,” Kon managed, swallowing thickly. Tim’s smile grew.

“Well Kon. Can I have your number?”

This time, Kon really did gawk, and Tim giggled. Actually _giggled_.

He didn’t know what to say. At all. And what he did manage was, “You’ve been following me…”

“Just figured your bus schedule out is all. That’s it.” Tim held his hand up. “Scout’s honor. But well…first time I saw you I was too busy staring to ask. And it just…didn’t happen ‘til now.” He shrugged a shoulder, and Kon heard the bus in the distance. “So…this is awkward and lame and I’m sorry if it’s creepy.” He glanced away, and Kon was sure he was crazy, definitely crazy.

But he pulled his phone out.

“Yours first,” he offered, and Tim looked back at him, smiling sweetly. Kon swallowed thickly again, because this guy was way too pretty to think he was hot- and maybe a little on the crazy side too.

Aw well, he was up for a little adventure.


	115. Taking Candy (Tim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: ""I saw you taking candy from a baby and thought good that kid was annoying anyway" for the prompts thing! (possibly jaytim with damian.) thank you!"

Tim gritted his teeth as Damian went on, and on, _and on_ , about every move he had made during their latest mission. About every stance and punch that was _wrong_.

Which was a lie, Tim knew. He’d done fine. They all had. Mission over, bad guys in cuffs, home with enough time to get a little slip.

Damian reclined in the large chair by the main computer console of the cave, fiddling with the stick of the lollipop in his mouth. “It’s no wonder Grayson preferred me to you as Robin, Drake.”

Tim balled his hands into fists at that. Low blow. Real low. Behind him, he heard Jason pulling his helmet off, setting it aside.

“I’ll never even see why he and father decided to give you the costume in the first place. -Tt- you are uncultured to say the least.”

Tim growled, having had enough. He stormed over to Damian, grabbing the chair and spinning it around. “Listen you little brat-”

Damian smirked around the lollipop stick. “The truth anger you, Drake?”

Tim snarled, grabbed the lollipop and tugged it right from his mouth, tossing it behind him. He heard paws on the cave floor- hadn’t even realized Titus was there- and the found of the dog happily licking at the little candy with his massive tongue.

Damian gawked at him for a minute, before frowning. “You know, that was Grayson’s favorite flavor. Do you know how long it took to convince him to give me one?”

“Well gee, just kiss his ass some more and I’m sure he’ll replace it you little bastard!” Tim threw his hands up, turning and walking away in a huff, unable to handle Damian any more tonight. They had their moments, but it was still rough water, and god _damn_ tonight was just not a good night.

He went to move past Jason, who reached out, gently gripped his arm. He paused, jerking his head up to look at him.

Jason was smiling.

“Kid was annoying me too,” he said, and somehow, it made Tim smile.

At least he wasn’t alone.


	116. That's Not Your Cat (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [violetscythe](http://violetscythe.tumblr.com/) asked: "This totally isn’t your cat shut up Dick/Dami *pretty please with sugar*"

Dick was staring out at the city lights. Gotham was pretty at night, he could admit. A different sort of pretty when he was in civvies and actually on the ground, versus what he saw from the rooftops.

And there wasn’t much else like downtown Gotham on a Friday night with all those brightly colored lights, and the people actually _alive_. Happy.

“C’mon Damian,” he called, without turning. He planned to show the teen a good time if it killed him. One of the clubs maybe. Sure it wasn’t Damian’s scene, but Dick figured an hour or two with some low lights and pounding music might do him a world of good.

Plus there was always the joy of street food at midnight.

“Damian?” Dick turned this time, caught a quick glance as of the teen as he rounded the corner to a side street. Dick frowned, hurrying to catch up to him. When he rounded the corner, he found him crouching down, scratching a fat Calico cat beneath the chin. Damian glanced up at him, and Dick folded his arms. “Babe, you can pet a cat anytime at home. We’re going to miss all the fun.”

Damian rolled his eyes- at the sentiment or the pet name, Dick wasn’t entirely sure- before he lifted the hefty cat into his arms, holding it against his chest.

“She’s my cat,” Damian said, and before he could continue Dick was shaking his head.

“That is totally not your cat, shut up babybat.” Damian frowned.

“I’ve seen her on patrol for the past week. She knows me. She’s mine at this point.” He pouted- he actually purposefully pouted and Dick was going to kill the kid- and Dick sighed, his shoulders heaving.

No point in fighting with that face. He’d never win. _Never_. And he knew it.

“Let’s get her home then,” Dick said, and Damian hurried over to his side, pout turning into a smile. He leaned in, placing a kiss against Dick’s cheek.

“Will it make you happy if I promise to still spend the evening with you?” Damian asked, as they rounded the corner back into the busy street, heading towards Dick’s car.

“Oh you definitely are. That cat better not think she’s getting your cuddles. They’re mine.”

Damian chuckled, leaning into Dick was they walked, and Dick decided that, alright, maybe this wasn’t the fun night he planned. But he’d take it in a heart beat.


	117. Single Dad AU pt11 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [st00pz](http://st00pz.tumblr.com/) asked: "hellooo i just saw that "the floors are lava" prompt and immediately thought of that BruDick AU! :D I saw that ur prompts are closed though so it's ok if you don't want to write it :)"
> 
> Original prompt was "Imagine your OTP has a child/children. Imagine Person A of your OTP standing on a chair, sofa, or balancing between two separate armrests with their kid(s) in their arms. Person B walks in asking what they’re doing, and both Person A and the kid(s) cry frantically, “The floors are lava!”"

Dick grinned from where he stood on the large, plush couch, his socked feet sinking in. Damian was crawling up onto the arm rest of an opposite plush chair, grinning at him happily.

“Remember little D!” he called, moving closer towards the three-year-old, “the floor is lava!”

The boy squealed, pulling himself up onto the arm and throwing himself towards the couch. He had a hold on the arm and a moment later Dick was pulling him up, lifting him into his arms and holding him against his side.

“Close one partner,” he called, tussling his hair as the boy giggled. Damian squirmed, turning and pointing across the room, where his stuffed bat sat on a coffee table.

“Save Batty!” he called, and Dick squeezed him.

“Of course! That’s what Superheroes are for, right? Saving people. You and me kiddo, we’re gonna save the day.” Damian squealed, when suddenly,

“Dick, what’s-”

Dick turned quickly, peering over the back of the couch at Bruce, who was standing in the doorway.

“Daddy no!” Damian nearly screamed, and Bruce froze before he actually stepped in. “The floor is lava!”

There was a moment, where Dick held his breath because this was a bit ridiculous, and they were climbing all over the furniture like animals- but then Bruce grinned.

“Is it now? Am I trapped over here, then?” Dick smiled at him, as Damian reached for the back of the couch. Dick helped him settle on the top, sitting with his little legs dangling over the back.

“We have to save daddy,” he said, little mouth set in a firm line. “Dee we have to save daddy and batty!”

“You got it little D.” Dick grabbed one of the throw pillows off the couch, leaning over the back and tossing it towards Bruce. It landed a step away from it. “We’ll make him a path.”

Damian clapped excitedly, and Bruce grinned, taking a step onto the pillow- waiting as Dick threw another. There were four, in total, and it was just enough to get Bruce to one of the plush chairs.

To Dick’s surprise, he climbed right up onto it.

“Daddy’s safe,” Dick said, giving Damian a little squeeze, who had turned around, was looking at his plush bat now. Dick glanced at Bruce, then at it, and the older man smiled.

“I’m on it.” Bruce grabbed one of the pillows he had walked over on, tossing it down onto the floor in front of him. Dick watched as he stretched himself out, resting a hand on the pillow as he reached for the coffee table, grabbing the bat by one of its comically small wing.

Yeah, okay, Dick didn’t mind seeing him stretch like that, he could admit.

Bruce tossed the toy towards them, and Dick caught it, as Bruce pulled himself back into the chair. He turned, handing the toy to Damian, as Bruce crawled awkwardly form the chair onto the couch. The boy took the toy, squeezing it happily.

“Daddy saved the day,” Dick pointed out, ruffling Damian’s hair as Bruce settled next to him. Damian pressed his face into his beloved bat, before looking up again.

“Dee saved daddy.” Dick blushed a little as Bruce chuckled, slipping an arm around Dick’s waist.

“He did, didn’t he?” Bruce glanced at him. “Think he deserves a present, Damian?” The boy nodded, and Bruce leaned in, kissing Dick’s cheek. Dick flushed, glancing away, as the toddler giggled.

“Dee’s pink!” Dick huffed, before grinning, grabbing Damian off the back of the couch and flopping down onto his back, hugging him tightly. The boy squirmed, and a minute later Bruce was squeezing, on his side, between Dick and the couch, tossing his arm over both of them and squeezing. Damian shifted, settling down with his face pressed into his bat, as Bruce leaned in, kissed Dick’s jaw gently.

“Alfred is going to have an aneurysm if he sees this room,” he pointed out, and Dick chuckled.

“I’ll clean it up.” Bruce nosed at his jaw.

“Maybe I’ll go set Damian up with something in his room, and you can pick up. And then I can _thank you_. For saving me.”

Dick blushed, as Bruce gave him another affectionate squeeze. Yeah, he could get behind that plan.


	118. Arranged Marriage AU pt8 (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "So I figured I'd pitch out an idea I had about your Arranged Marriage AU, So I had this dramatic idea about your Arranged Marriage AU. If you're not taking prompts right now that's cool! You hinted at some R'as/Tim in a previous chapter, and it got me thinking - what would happen if R'as found out that Tim and Dami's relationship isn't as sweet and prefect as everyone thinks? An excuse to see more jealous!Dami and evil/manipulative R'as. (Bonus if R'as has blackmail over Tim or Damian)"

Tim pushed his hair back behind his ears as he let himself into the Manor. Both Damian and Bruce were in the city, but Bruce had left his tablet which they needed for an upcoming meeting. Tim had had a break in his schedule, had offered to stop by and pick it up.

He thought to call out to Alfred, but decided against it and headed right up the stairs, towards Bruce’s study. He was halfway down the hall when he heard a throat clearing, and turned, jumping for a minute.

Oh. Just…Ras.

Tim hadn’t expected Damian’s family to still be here.

“Oh. Uh, hi,” he offered, “I…didn’t know anyone was here, aside of Alfred. Just picking up something for Bruce.” Now that he didn’t have champagne running through him like blood, he could admit there was something intimidating about Damian’s grandfather. “I thought you and Talia had a flight home this morning?”

“She changed our departure time so she could have a final look around the city. Pennyworth took her.” Tim nodded. Ras inclined his had, as if he was studying Tim. “My grandson could have done worse.”

“Uhm…thanks.” _I think_. Tim took another step back. “I should…get going. Bruce and Damian have an important meeting.”

“Such a shame my grandson surely doesn’t know how to _handle_ someone like you.”

Tim frowned. Okay, that was…weird. To say the least. “Excuse me?”

“He’s quite the devil, isn’t he? You need not answer. I could tell. Things were…strained between you two. Strange.” Tim sucked on his lip for a moment.

“Damian and I are just fine,” he lied. Well, half lied. Maybe not just fine. But…making progress. A lot of progress.

He had a flash of Damian’s hand down his yoga pants that morning, the way it was so easy to arch back against him while he jerked him off.

Yeah, definitely a lot of progress.

Ras clicked his tongue- and for a moment, Tim realized where Damian had gotten that from. “You are a liar, Timothy. A bad one. Tell me, is your unhappiness stemming from my grandson- or who he is not?”

Tim felt a cold sweat breaking out on his spine. He folded his arms over his chest, trying to square his shoulders- in reality, trying to curl up on himself.

“Does Damian know why your family was so quick to marry you off?”

That had Tim almost shaking.

“They saw a great opportunity to join one of Gotham’s oldest families,” Tim retorted. “They also have been fond of Bruce for a long time. The option seemed favorable to everyone involved.”

“Or perhaps they wanted to pawn you off before you tarnished their pretty name?” Tim swallowed, thickly. “How many did you sneak off with, Timothy? You had a taste for bad blood, didn’t you? Liked the ones you were supposed to be setting straight.” Ras leaned one shoulder against the wall. “Your parents must have gotten so sick of buying media silence. The last one though, he was around for a time. He didn’t get any better, did he?”

Tim felt dizzy. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. He thought he had left these things behind- everything that had been, before he married Damian.

He knew that was a lie, though.

“What was his name, Timothy? I know I have it in my files, but I seem to forget. Todd?”

“Jason Todd.” Tim felt strange, saying his name. It had been…quite some time. Not long enough, but still.

“Yes, him. The one with quite the criminal record. Still dealing in Gotham, is he? I’m sure your parents couldn’t have you associated with such…degenerates. Not when they’re some of the best loved socialites in Gotham. How much did Bruce pay, to buy media silence after the last scandal with him, hmmm? That was part of the deal, correct? Bruce’s money covers the trail, and he gets a little husband for his son to try and make him more personable to the city. And keep him out of trouble.”

“What do you want?” Tim felt sick, desperate, tried so hard to keep it out of his voice. His stomach nearly heaved at the way Ras looked at him next.

“You. Simple.”

Tim felt bile in his throat. He kept it down.

“Unless you want my grandson to hear about all of your…endeavors, from the past. And not so past.” Ras’s smirk was wet, vile. Tim shuddered. “I’m sure the past isn’t so far behind you.”

Tim took a deep breath, then, “They’re going to wonder why I’m late.”

A chuckle. “Yes. Yes they will. Run off to my grandson and his excuse for a father. I’ll be in touchy, Timothy.”

Tim turned on his heel, nearly running down the hallway to Bruce’s study. He found the tablet, turned- and saw the hallway now empty.

He had never run through the Manor so far in his life.

Once he was in his car and pulling into the street, Tim realized just how badly his hands were shaking. He gritted his teeth, gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles went white, but he could feel the tremors, in his belly still.

He had thought he’d left all this behind him. He had thought things were getting better- and they had been, with Damian. But this- it might have been one thing, if Damian simply had to learn about the reason Tim had been thrown into this marriage as well. But-

Nothing had stopped, once they had gotten married. Well, briefly, it had. Tim remembered holding out, until it seemed clear to him that Damian had no interest in him- didn’t even like him- and he remembered how desperate he had sounded, calling Jason. How utterly pitiful, sneaking out to see him in broad daylight.

How _stupid_.

And it had been good, sure. But it had left Tim feeling sick, too. And the time after. The few brief encounters, before Tim knew it wasn’t going to help, and he broke it off. Completely.

But those nights after, laying awake in his room, his phone boasting Jason’s contact. All he had to do was tap his name. And it’d be okay.

He had known it wouldn’t.

Tim forced himself to breathe. Last thing he needed was to get into an accident. He had to keep himself under control. Get the tablet to Bruce and Damian, and then go home and think this through.

*

“Oh thank god,” Bruce said as he stood up from his desk. Damian was in a chair opposite, pushing himself up as Tim entered the room. He hadn’t removed his sunglasses. He handed the tablet off to Bruce, who unlocked it, searching for the files he needed.

“You just might be the day’s savior,” Damian offered, slipping an arm around Tim’s waist. Tim tensed, didn’t fall into it like he wanted to. Like he could have, earlier.

Like he had, that morning in their kitchen, when Damian had wrapped his arms around him from behind while Tim tried to drink his coffee.

“We have to go,” Bruce pointed out, and Damian sighed.

“Maybe we should get dinner tonight,” he offered, reaching up to brush some of Tim’s hair back. Tim was quiet. “Are you alright?”

Tim was sure he looked pale. He felt it, like the life was draining from him completely.

“Just not feeling very well,” he offered. “Maybe not tonight.” Damian nodding, leaning in and kissing his cheek- and it was affectionate, and it made Tim’s belly hurt. Because he wanted it. As scared as he had been, to let Damian in after how badly things had started out, as much as he first tried to reason maybe they could just make this sex, and keep everything else at a detached level-

It was a lie. Tim rather liked him. In the right moments, he loved him, even.

“Alright. I’ll see you tonight then.” A gentle squeeze around his waist, and Damian was moving to follow his father. Tim waited for them to leave, before he exhaled, slowly, thinking perhaps a jump from Bruce’s office window would hurt less then the storm that had to come from this.

*

Tim paced, shook, curled up and felt as if his life was ending. And endless cycle, until it was dark, and he knew Damian would be home soon.

Had this happened sooner, he wouldn’t have cared. Would have been happy to shove the truth in Damian’s face- that he had a taste for the bad, that he’d fucked guys he’d barely known because they looked like they might have killed him.

That he’d kept one, his favorite, had kept going back. Even when he should have been in Damian’s bed.

But now…now it was different. Complicated. So much so that Tim couldn’t eat, he cried, fell into lapses of silence, and then cried again. His eyes were red, ached like dry cotton, and all he could do was remain curled up on the couch.

There wasn’t a way around this. He couldn’t lie to Damian. Not now. He couldn’t follow through with Ras’s blackmail- the mere thought made his stomach queasy. No. The truth then.

It was all he had.

He was still there, curled up on the couch, when Damian stepped in, calling out to him. “It’s late, I’m sorry,” he started, walking into their living room. He paused, however, when he saw Tim. “Tim?”

“We need to talk.”

Tim swore he saw Damian’s stomach drop in his eyes. But his husband walked around the couch, settling down next to him- and Tim wanted to curl up into him. Press his face into his chest. Damian ran hot and he loved it, loved how utterly comforting it was.

The fact that Damian had become comforting was telling, and made him hate this all the more.

“You…you need to know something,” Tim started, wringing his hands together. “And I…don’t exactly know how to say it. Any of it.” Tim took a deep breath, felt Damian reach out, gently rub his thigh.

It was now, or never.

The words spilled out from Tim, the confession that his parents had needed to get rid of him because of his taste in partners. Bad enough he was gay, but having him dead down with drug dealers and gang members that they were trying to rehabilitate- it was too much.

And Jason. Jason had been the worst. Tim wasn’t even sure how he wasn’t in jail- maybe he was, now. He didn’t know. But he kept going back- and getting caught. But he didn’t care.

Jason was like heroin, and Tim had been an addict.

It hurt worse, to stare Damian in the eyes, and tell him how he’d snuck out to see Jason, after the wedding. When it was clear they…weren’t going to work. At least, Tim had thought it was clear.

“It’s over,” Tim whispered, “It has been for a while. I swear. I haven’t…talked to him, seen him. In so long.” Tim was looking down, at his hands. At the wedding band he hadn’t taken off, upon coming home.

He hadn’t wanted to.

Idly, he twisted it. “I’m sorry, Damian. I’m so sorry…” He felt his eyes growing wet, tried to blink it away- but all that did was spill the tears over his lids and lashes, down his flushed cheeks. “Sorry to have done that to you. I…I care about you and-”

He was cut off when he felt Damian’s arms wrapping around him, pulling him in, against his chest. Tim collapsed into it, heard Damian hushing him- and lost all control. He sobbed, openly, breath catching in his throat, as Damian’s warm hand moved over his spine.

Tim squirmed closer, clutched at his shirt. He felt utterly pathetic, but he wanted this. Wanted what he and Damian were fixing. He felt good, waking up with him. Felt like he could look himself in the eye in the mirror. Felt alright. Didn’t feel sick to himself.

“Shhhh,” Damian whispered, leaning down to kiss Tim’s hair. “Take a breath, Tim.” Tim did, inhaling, holding it a moment, before exhaling, slowly. When he looked up, Damian reached for him, wiped a tear from his cheek.

“I…expected you to be furious,” Tim admitted. Damian shrugged a shoulder.

“Whatever you did for your parents to feel you needed to marry me, I have no right to have any personal stock in. As for after…I was cruel. You did not deserve that. However you found comfort through it…well. I don’t blame you.”

Tim sucked on his lip for a moment. “I want this to work, Damian.” He flattened his hand on his husband’s chest. “I want us to work.”

Damian reached up, covering Tim’s hand with his own. Tim felt the cool press of his wedding band.

“I thought we were doing pretty well,” Damian admitted, offering Tim a genuine smile. Tim smiled back- couldn’t help it, and Damian leaned in, pressing a kiss to his mouth. It lasted a moment, two, before Tim was wrapping his other arm around his neck, trying to pull himself closer, giving a little whine when Damian sucked on his lower lip. “I think we still are.”

Tim smiled, nuzzling under Damian’s chin, happy to be held in the crook of his neck. The sick feeling in his belly was slowly subsiding.

“I have a question, Tim.”

“Hmm?” Tim tried to not feel nervous about it- and as Damian squeezed him gently, he realized _he wasn’t_.

“Why now?”

Tim paused, wondering what it would do, to tell Damian the truth.

But he had been so good, now. He wasn’t going to revert back to lies.

“Your grandfather was still at the Manor when I arrived. He…admitted to me that he knew about my past. And threatened to tell you, unless I gave him something.”

Damian gripped Tim’s shoulders, jerking him back. Those pretty blue eyes were staring at him, wide. “What?” Tim glanced away, and Damian’s fingers on his shoulders loosened. “What did he want, Tim?”

Tim swallowed thickly. “…Me.”

A moment later, and he was against Damian’s chest again. His husband had a firm hold on him, and when Damian spoke, there was venom in his voice, dripping from every point of every tooth.

“I’ll kill him.” Tim curled up closer, and said nothing, as Damian seemed to completely envelope him.

He knew he didn’t mean it. But the rage was there, and it was terrifying.

“Damian,” Tim whispered, “Can we…not swell on him right now? On…this. If you’re not…mad. Then I’d rather just forget it happened. For tonight.”

Damian glanced down at him, before he nodded, kissing his temple. Tim leaned back as Damian began to move, standing up-

And a moment later, scooping Tim up into his arms. Tim gasped, wrapping his arms around Damian’s neck out of instinct, as the younger man smiled at him.

“What are you doing?” Tim asked, almost laughing as Damian walked him around the couch.

“We missed a very old wedding tradition,” he admitted, as he walked towards his bedroom. He opened the door with his hip, adding, “I never carried you over a threshold.”

Tim felt his heart beat up into his throat. He clung tighter, smiling- bright, _honest_ , as Damian walked him into his room.

And Tim could admit, in that moment, that he was in love.


	119. Strawberry Frosting (DickWally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rapunzels-evil-twin](http://rapunzels-evil-twin.tumblr.com/) asked: "Can you do some birdflash, your writing is amazing •3•!"

“Rob, man, look at this!”

Dick glanced up from where he sat in his room, at his desk. He was tinkering with his gadgets, his small wrist computer in front of him.

“I swear Wally, if it’s another one of those magazines-”

“Dude _chill_.” He leaned over his desk, one arm going around his shoulders. He shoved his other hand under Dick’s face, holding a cupcake, covered in ample frosting. “Even better. Look what Miss M made!”

Dick quirked up an eyebrow, before gently pushing Wally’s hand away. “Great. Maybe later.”

The redhead frowned. “C’mon Dick, who doesn’t get excited about a cupcake?”

Dick jerked his head up, sunglasses falling down his nose, slightly. “Keep your voice down!” Not like he needed Batman breathing down his throat because Wally couldn’t keep his mouth shut about his real identity.

“Sorry sorry!” He held one hand up, defensively. “But c’mon, you’ve been in here all day. At least eat something.”

“Some of us don’t eat like you do.” Wally rolled his eyes, and Dick sighed. “If I take a bite, can I get back to work?” Wally nodded, enthusiastically, and Dick sighed again. He shoved his chair back, snatching the cupcake from Wally’s hand and taking a bite. The frosting, which was strawberry, overpowered the actual vanilla cupcake for a moment, until Dick managed to chew past it.

It wasn’t bad- definitely.

“Happy?” he asked, his tongue darting out over his lips as he set the pastry down on his desk. Wally didn’t respond, was just staring at him. “Yo, earth to Kid Idiot.” Wally blinked, once, before he leaned down, reaching out and swiping his thumb along Dick’s lower lip, collecting a tiny dab of frosting he had missed. Dick watched him suck his thumb into his mouth-

And fought down a little shiver.

“Going…back to work now,” he forced out, keeping his breathing even. No need to let Wally know that had gotten to him-

He gave a little gasp when Wally was suddenly between him and the desk, climbing onto his chair, straddling him. Dick opened his mouth to protest, to tell him not now, but the words were lost when the speedster grasped his face, kissing him roughly.

Dick’s hands flexed at his side as his head was tipped back, as Wally sucked on his lower lip, moved against his mouth with heavy, wet sounds that shouldn’t have been as attractive as they were. But the moment his tongue was pressing between Dick’s lips he was reaching up, grabbing at Wally’s hoodie, trying to pull himself closer.

Dick tasted like strawberry frosting, and Wally moaned openly over it, rocking against him, once. When he finally pulled back, leaving Dick’s mouth wet, his lips slightly pink, he grinned.

Dick tried to glare at him, but it didn’t work with his mouth still looking so utterly kissable.

“Are you done?” he asked, and Wally ran his fingers back through Dick’s hair.

“Dunno. Do I have to be? You taste pretty good.” Dick sighed, but couldn’t keep the little smirk off his own lips. He released Wally’s hoodie with one hand, grabbing his collar instead and pulling him down.

“Guess not,” he whispered, “But maybe follow my lead this time. You’ve got a nasty habit of going too fast.”

Wally would’ve laughed, if Dick hadn’t kissed him again. And the younger resigned himself to getting no work done, that night. Which seemed to be a regular occurrence, when Wally was around.


	120. Brat (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "pssssssst bossy bottom dami who tells dick to "fuck me harder, grayson, i know you can do better than that" but tosses his head back and bares his neck to show submission like dami is the bossiest brattiest sub & bottom EVER"

“Hnn-Grayson,” Damian groaned, his hands flexing in the sheets. “Fuck me harder, Grayson. I-I know you can do better than that.”

Between his thighs, Dick felt his rhythm stutter. He gripped Damian’s thighs tighter, baring his teeth as he leaned over him, thrusting in harder, _faster_ , watched as the teen’s back arched, his head falling back.

“Better?” he forced out, his fingers sure to leave bruises on Damian’s thighs.

“ _Yessss_.” It was a happy sigh, and Damian kept his head tilted back, neck bared in pure submission to Dick. The older man released his thighs, falling over him, catching his weight on his arms on either side of Damian’s head, in the pillows, his mouth finding his neck instantly. He sucked on the warm skin, thrusts changing so they were a bit slower, but deeper at this new angle.

Damian whined, a sweet, needy sound, as Dick dragged his teeth over the reddening flesh that would bruise before the night was over. Teeth scraped along his pulse, before there was hot breath against his ear.

“You’re mine, little prince.”

Damian shuddered, clenching around Dick once, before he reached over his shoulders, dragged his blunt nails along his back.

“Prove it,” he breathed, tilting his head back as Dick found another spot to bruise. “Pr-ove it, Grayson. Ma-ke me _yours_.” He gasped, as Dick’s teeth tug into his skin, nearly breaking it. “Prove you’re man enough.”

Dick smirked. Oh, he’d do _just that_.


	121. Show (DickWally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [myrandomnesslife](http://myrandomnesslife.tumblr.com/) asked: "WALLY FUCKING DICK THO"

“Wally, _fuck_.” Dick arched his back, his hands splayed on Wally’s thighs as he settled perfectly over his cock. Wally stared at the perfect curve of his spine- and shit, this position had been the best damn idea Dick had had in a long time.

He liked having Dick on top of him, but facing away from him gave him that great view of every muscle in his back, the curve of his spine-

 _His flawless ass_.

He reached out, grabbed a handful of flesh, squeezing as Dick rose up, easing himself back down, groaning. The younger man shook, glancing over his shoulder.

“Like what you see?” The words had a slight tremor to them- and Wally wondered how long Dick had been thinking about this. The whole damn day?

God, he hoped so.

“Babe, you have no idea.” He pushed himself up more, shifting the pillows behind him, before he ran his hands along Dick’s thighs, his hips, his lover rocking slowly. Dick let out a breath, before lifting his hips more, riding Wally with shallow thrusts that had them both groaning, Wally wrapping an arm around Dick’s waist, Dick squirming because he wanted more, wanted harder.

The redhead let his boyfriend have his way, for a short time, before he grinned, lifting Dick off of him, and letting him tumble to the bed. Dick stared up as Wally slipped between his thighs, hitching his legs up high on his hips- god bless his flexibility- and thrusting in without ceremony. Dick gritted his teeth, head jerking back, and Wally leaned in, kissing just below his ear.

“Okay pretty boy,” he whispered, “show’s over.”


	122. Break Time (TimBart)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Is it possible for a Tim/Bart for summer DCU? I'm sorry. I know the prompts are closed but it doesn't hurt to ask right? ^~^ thanks for reading.."

Tim didn’t look up from his laptop at the sound of socked feet across the tower living room. He was trying to keep up-to-date with case files back in Gotham, which felt like a full time job on top of his work with the Titans-

Someone plopped down on the couch, obnoxiously close to him, and Tim glanced over, caught a glimpse of Bart’s smiling face. He looked back at his computer, and when the speedster didn’t look away, sighed.

“What?”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Reading.” Tim didn’t glance up, even as he felt the couch dip, and Bart move slower, his socked foot pressing against Tim’s thigh as he folded up, just the way Tim was.

“Reading what?”

“Case files from Gotham.” Tim clicked to the next- oh, so Two-Face was back in Arkham. _What’d he do to get caught this time_ -

“Boring! You need a break!”

Bart reached over, snapping Tim’s laptop closed, and the teen turned, glaring at him. He was grinning sheepishly.

“C’mon Tim, loosen up a bit!” He leaned over against his shoulder, looking up at him with those stupid green eyes that had Tim’s irritation fading. Far too quickly.

Tim sighed again. “Fine.” He paused, then, “Let me guess. You want me to take a break with you?” Bart nodded, excitedly, and Tim shifted, slipping an arm over the speedster and pulling him in closer. “And what’s this break entail?”

“Maybe we go get ice cream?”

Tim snorted. “There’s probably some here.”

“But it’s not the same! You know it!” Bart reached up, clutching at the arm around him, idly playing with the sleeve of Tim’s hoodie.

“Okay,” Tim said, caving way too easily. He knew that. But it was hard to resist. “Anything else?”

“Hmmmm, maybe you kiss me a little?”

“A little?”

“A little- a lot.” Bart squirmed, shrugging a shoulder, and Tim leaned down, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“So what’s first?”

“Ice cream!” Bart was off the couch already, heading for the door, and Tim rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back for a minute. He could hear Bart, already at the door, calling for Tim to hurry up, as he surely hopped around, trying to get his shoes on.

Tim smiled to himself. The kisses would be sticky, Bart would taste like hot fudge and sprinkle and whatever ridiculous flavors of ice cream he deemed necessary on that given day- and Tim couldn’t help but look forward to it.

If he was honest, they were his favorite.


	123. Preoccupied (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "Silly shit 2 cheer u up~ Damian is so damn busy that one night Dick ends up breaking into his room, wearing cat ears & declaring that "if it's the only way to get some attention from you, there's no helping it" bc Dami always has time for his pets"
> 
> It wasn't a prompt, she just wanted to cheer me up- but I couldn't resist!

Damian’s door was thrown open, but the teen didn’t bother looking up from his laptop. He had to memorize the schematics to the latest wing of Arkham, if he was going to kill the security system at exactly the right time, and not alert the guards. A certain someone needed a little interrogating-

He was jarred when someone cleared their throat, and Damian glanced over his shoulder, at his doorway.

And his mouth opened, slightly.

Dick was standing there, hands on his hips, a pair of metal wire cat ears atop his head. They were cold, with a few rhinestones along them, making them gleam obscenely in the light.

“Grayson, what in the world-”

“You’ve been preoccupied for _days_ ,” he whined, crossing the room towards Damian. He grabbed the boy’s chair, turning it quickly, and Damian grasped at the arms to keep from lurching forward into Dick’s chest. “And if this is the only way to get some attention from you, then there’s no helping it!”

Damian quirked up an eyebrow. “I’m confused, Grayson. Make some sense.”

“You always pay attention to your pets!” Dick dropped down to his knees, resting his head on Damian’s knee. The teen rolled his eyes.

“So you think costume jewelry will make me pay attention to you?”

“They’re cat ears. It has to work.” He glanced up, grinning sheepishly, before pressing between Damian’s thighs, tilting his head up. The teen huffed, before leaned down, hands sliding along Dick’s cheeks as he kissed him.

Okay, maybe they looked ridiculous, but in an oddly endearing way. Almost attractive.

Maybe more than almost.

“Where did you even get these?”

“Borrowed them from Stephanie.” Dick licked at Damian’s lips, and the teen gasped, fingers reaching back into his hair, tugging a little. “Do you like them?”

“-tt- they could be worse…”

Dick grinned, and Damian rolled his eyes. “What? Don’t give me that look.”

“Want me to wear them some _other_ time?”

Damian huffed. “You’re insufferable, and I cannot fathom what I see in you.”

“So that’s a yes, right?”

“…Yes.” Dick grinned, stealing another kiss quickly, before,

“You know, you’re proving that my plan worked.”

“Shut up, Grayson.” Damian leaned down again, pressing his mouth to Dick’s, and could feel the man smiling against him.

 _Insufferable_. Completely and utterly so-

And positively endearing.


	124. Get a Little Sleep, Please? (SuperBat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "All this talk of Superbats and talking down to each other, is therre ny way we can get just a teeny tiny ficlet on them? please?"

“We’ll do a full run through at Arkham tomorrow night. Check all the wings, not just maximum security.” Bruce swept a hand back through his hair as he and Dick exited the elevator, stepping into the manor. “Stephanie and Damian can keep the city under control while we’re preoccupied.”

Dick nodded, about to comment, when Bruce stopped walking, staring ahead. Dick paused, following his gaze, and oh-

Clark was standing in the large entrance way, arms folded.

Dick smiled, lifting a hand in greeting. A moment, and Clark returned the smile, walking over.

“It’s the middle of the night, what’re you doing here?” Dick asked, and Clark glanced at Bruce. He was dressed in civvies, but lacked his glasses.

“I just came to make sure someone gets a little sleep tonight. A little bird told me you’ve been having a rough time, Bruce.” Bruce said nothing, and Dick raised an eyebrow.

“Huh? Who?” There was another pause, then, “ _Oooh_ , did Tim say something to Kon?”

Bruce frowned. “Remind me to remind Tim what _family business_ means.” Dick rolled his eyes, before reaching out, squeezing Clark’s shoulder.

“He’s all yours. Been a pain in my ass all night.” Dick grinned at Bruce, before heading off up the stairs, towards his room. It was far too late to make the trip out to his own apartment.

Once he was gone, Clark turned back to Bruce, who seemed to be giving his best bat glare at his friend. “Don’t give me that luck. You haven’t been sleeping.”

“And that’s new?”

“It’s not healthy.”

“It’s not healthy to have psychopaths out on the Gotham streets, either.” He turned, heading towards the stairs. Clark was quick to keep up.

“You better be heading to your room.” Bruce started up the stairs, ignoring him. “Bruce!”

He reached the top, turned not towards his room, but the opposite way, towards his study. Clark frowned, rushing up, and in one fluid motion lifted him up, awkwardly cradling him in his arms.

Bruce glared up at him, folding his arms. “Clark. Put. Me. Down.”

“I will,” he said, turning in the opposite direction, heading towards Bruce’s room. “In bed. Where you belong.”

“I swear to god Clark-”

“It can wait until morning. Just get a few hours sleep, alright?” Bruce stared up at the man, before sighing, rolling his eyes.

“If I agree will you put me down?” Clark paused, before releasing Bruce, who reached out, gripped the collar of his faded flannel shirt in one hand, and pulled him closer. Clark’s eyes went wide for a moment when Bruce kissed him, barely had the chance to react before the man was pulling back. “But if I’m going to bed, you’re staying the night.”

Clark stared at him, nodding almost dumbly. Bruce gave him a half smile, turning back towards his room.

“But if you attempt to take up the whole bed this time, I’m sending you to the couch!”

Clark felt a smile tugging on his lips- couldn’t help it. He couldn’t read Bruce, had expected to be kicked out of the Manor far more than he had expected an invitation to curl up around his favorite bat.

Still, it wasn’t one he was about to turn down.


	125. Single Dad AU pt12 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reblogged the prompt: "Imagine your OTP cuddling on a ferris wheel. BONUS: Another one of your OTPs is in another seat and are yelling at them to get a room." and [st00pz](http://st00pz.tumblr.com/) came through asking for the single dad AU, with Jason and Dick teasing each other and Bruce and Tim just embarrassed over their boyfriends.

Dick tugged on his blue flannel shirt, leaning in as Bruce’s arm encircled hi shoulders, the ferris wheel carefully carrying them at a slow pace into the air. He could see, if he looked around them, the expanse of the summer’s end fair that always came to Gotham, come September. 

He hadn’t expected to get to enjoy it with Bruce that evening. Tim had wanted to go, had convinced Jason- who insisted Dick be dragged along as well. He’s texted Bruce, thinking it was a long shot- but his meeting has ended early and he, to Dick’s surprise, had been rather enthused about coming.

“You can see so much of the city from up here,” Dick said, even as they were only half way up on their first rotation. Bruce smiled, leaning over, nuzzling Dick’s neck affectionately.

“You can. But I’d rather look at you.” The younger man blushed, but didn’t fight off the affection- Dick didn’t think there would ever be a day he did- instead he tipped his head to the side, reaching up to thread his fingers through Bruce’s hair.

“Get a room already!” Dick heard the yelling from above them, and felt Bruce pulling off his neck, both of them leaning back to glance over the mesh top of their little cart, at Jason and Tim, seated in the cart above them.

Jason was leaning partially out of the cart- Dick was sure that was against safety guidelines- grinning playfully at them. Dick rolled his eyes, as Jason cupped his hands over his mouth, continuing,

“Take him home already Bruce!”

Oh, Dick was going to kill him.

“I swear,” he muttered, even as Bruce chuckled, leaning back more and grinning up wordlessly at Jason. Dick turned, grasping at the back of the cart and sticking his head out,

“You’re one to talk! You had your tongue down Tim’s throat before this thing was moving!”

Behind Jason, Dick saw Tim stiffen, scramble to peer out as well, cheeks flushed. Jason glared.

“Hey now, don’t be jealous just because I wasn’t kissing you, pretty boy.” Dick growled, leaning further out- felt Bruce reaching over to grasp at his waist, to keep him from hanging out entirely. He could hear Bruce laughing openly now.

“In your dreams!” Dick yelled up, even though he was grinning. Jason was laughing, as well.

“Hey, those are _good_ dreams!”

Tim leaned partially out now, as well, as they crested on the top and they were nearly level. Bruce looked at him, offering him a sorry smile, and the boy returned it, rolling his eyes as both Jason and Dick continued to yell at each other.

Their attempts at hanging out of the ride got them not only a verbal warning when the carts reached the base level, but both couples were asked- asked being the wrong term, in Dick’s mind- to leave the ride. They climbed out, Jason hurrying over to Dick and throwing an arm around his shoulders, starting right back in on the teasing about he and Bruce- as Bruce fell a step back with Tim.

“I imagine you’re never bored with him,” he said, and Tim offered a cute and almost shy smile.

“Never a dull moment. When I get to see him.” He shoved his hands into his jeans. “Classes keep me busy and all. And my parents...don’t like him. To put it nicely.” He shrugged a shoulder, and Bruce watched Jason and Dick for a moment, before,

“He doesn’t seem like a bad guy.”

“Oh he’s not! But...well...my parents don’t see me settling down and ending up with two point five kids and a white picket fence with Jason...or any guy.” He glanced down. “Plus he... comes across as rough. And I mean, he’s into plenty of shady shit, I know. But he’s...good to me.”

Bruce reached over, squeezing Tim’s shoulder, offering him a smile when he looked up.

“That’s what matters,” he pointed out, “and that you’re happy.” Tim paused, before a smile spread across his face, and he stared ahead, eyes softening even as Jason yelled at Dick, making a childish face at him, tongue sticking out.

“You’re right. Besides, he’s my idiot now. Not sure I could get rid of him, even if I wanted to.” Tim laughed, and next to him, Bruce grinned.

“It’s okay, the other one is mine.” A moment later, Dick was throwing an arm over Jason’s shoulders, trying to ruffle his hair and plant an overly affectionate kiss on his cheek, while his friend tried to shove him off. Bruce could only chuckle- because it was nice to see Dick so relaxed, childish for a moment.

He could understand why Damian took to him so well. Why his son looked at Dick like he was the absolute sun. He had an inner child in him that was impossible to deny.

Bruce broke from his thoughts, a moment later, when he heard Dick yell, “Jason help me win a stuffed animal!” And suddenly he was dragging his friend towards a game booth. Bruce and Tim followed, the older noticing that one of the hanging prizes was a stuffed, blue bat.

He could only laugh.


	126. Stumble (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "DickDami for the barefoot stubbed toe thing but Damian picks Dick up and Dick is like what the actual fuck no first you're taller now this I refuse"
> 
> Original prompt was "Person A is barefoot and bumps their toes hard on something. After they yell out in pain, person B runs over, picks them up and carries them over to a sofa.”

Dick pushed Damian’s bedroom door open, stumbling out of his bedroom in the dark, in his underwear and a tshirt. He knew he could have turned a light on- but he was also aware that Bruce had, for once, not gone on patrol, and was sleeping himself, somewhere in the Manor. Dick felt as if any single light may as well have served as the bat symbol, and brought the man from a dead sleep right out into the hallway.

And- even if Dick knew Bruce knew about he and Damian, he didn’t really feel the need to rub it in his face by stumbling out of the teen’s room, half dressed, in the dead of night.

He yawned, trudging forward, heading for the stairs. He just needed a glass of water, he could grab that and get back into bed without anyone knowing he’d even been moving-

Dick misjudged, in the dark, where one of the small tables that boasted a few framed pictures of the family sat, and smashed his bare foot right into it. He jerked back, hopping up onto one foot, howling as he was pulled from his half sleeping stage to wide away with the sharp jolt of pain. He cursed, trying to flex his toes, wincing at the throb that filled them.

Behind him, a door opened, and he heard a tired, “Grayson?” He cursed again, forcing himself to set his foot down, to turn and try- and fail- to keep a wince down.

Damian was standing in his bedroom doorway, bathed in the light he had flicked on- his sweatpants thrown on quickly, falling an inch too low on his hips. If Dick wasn’t so sure he had crushed every bone in his toes, he might have taken a moment to admire Damian in that moment.

As it was, he was sure the nerves in his toes were rioting.

“Are you alright?”

“F-fine,” he forced out, trying to grin. Damian glanced from him, towards the little table- where one of the pictures had fallen over, before looking back at Dick, and raising one of his eyebrows.

“You walked into the table, didn’t you?” Dick nodded, carefully lifting his foot again slightly, balancing on the one. Damian huffed, rolling his eyes and walking over towards him. Without a word he grabbed Dick, throwing him off his balance so he fell into Damian with a little cry, and scooped him up. Dick, out of reflex, tossed his arms around his neck, clinging to him as Damian readjusted his weight.

“What are you-”

“-tt- I’m not interested in seeing you _hop_ back to my bed, Grayson.” Dick frowned, squirming, and Damian tightened his grip on him. “Do you want me to drop you?”

“This is ridiculous,” Dick said, rather loudly now. “You shouldn’t even be able to pick me up-”

“I’m not ten anymore.”

“Oh _god_ I know _that_!” Dick grimaced. “Jeez Damian, I think I know how old you are.” The teen gave a smirk as he turned, walking too easily back towards his room. “I just mean...god when the hell did this happen.”

“You mean my ability to lift you? Or perhaps the fact that I’m taller than you now, Grayson? Or-”

“Funny, you little bastard.” Damian chuckled as Dick frowned, before, “I have to get to the kitchen-”

“Are you two trying to wake the dead?” Damian paused, almost to his room, turning so he and Dick could look up the hallway. Bruce was standing in the hallway, in his pajamas- Dick would always be in awe that he was still so intimidating- arms folded over his chest.

Dick grinned sheepishly. “No. Uh...I just...was gonna get some water and...I stubbed my toe. That’s all.” Damian clicked his tongue.

“I simply wanted to make sure Grayson did not manage to throw himself down the stairs.”

Bruce shook his head. “Just...be a little quieter, please?” Dick nodded, while Damian said nothing at all. Then, quietly, Dick whispered,

“...I’m still thirsty.”

In unison, both Damian and Bruce huffed. The youngest glanced down the hallway at his father, who was walking towards them.

“Just get him to bed,” Bruce said, waving his hand, “I’ll get the damn water.”

Dick grinned then, letting his head drop to Damian’s shoulder, and, okay- maybe Damian carrying him wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was pretty comfortable.

Damian turned, carrying him back into his bedroom, remarking as he neared the bed, “Father acts as if this isn’t a first time occurrence.”

Dick shrugged, as Damian rather gently set him on the bed. “Used to happen when I was a kid here, too.”

Damian paused, before he crawled over Dick, tugging the blanket back and settling in himself.

“Let me guess, someone always carried you back to bed and got your water?” Dick shrugged a shoulder again.

“I mean, yeah-”

Damian huffed, throwing himself down on his side and shaking his head. If he wasn’t careful, he knew he’d be just as whipped- as Jason would have put it- by Dick as his father was.

If he was honest, he’d know he was already at that point.


	127. Omegaverse pt1 (DickWally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [myrandomnesslife](http://myrandomnesslife.tumblr.com/) asked: "ALPHA WALLY AND OMEGA DICK !!!!"
> 
> I'm just going to title any Omegaverse prompts as part of this series, even if they aren't related. Since I know ABO isn't everyone's cup of tea c:

Wally groaned, mouth pressed between Dick’s shoulder blades, as the Omega squirmed, pressed firmly down into the mattress. Even with the window open, the cool breeze it created, Wally felt like he was suffocating under the sweetness, the heavy scent of his heat-

Which he hadn’t been braced for, when he’d come home. If he was honest.

“A little warning next time,” Wally teased, nipping at a scar as one of his hands slid between them, two fingers sliding effortlessly into Dick. The Omega’s thighs were slick- hell, the sheets were already wet. Wally figured Dick had started before he’d even gotten home.

A little warm up, before their night began.

Dick let out a whine, turning his head so his cheek was pressed to the pillow. He lifted his hips, slightly, trying to thrust back against Wally’s fingers.

“You knew it was coming,” he breathed out, eyes nearly rolling as Wally added a third finger, curling them all against his sweet spot. In truth, the Alpha was impressed Dick hadn’t screamed and stopped even trying to speak, in that moment. “If you’d- ah, do that again,” Dick spread his thighs, losing his thoughts for a moment, and Wally smiled, pushing himself up so he was settled between Dick’s thighs, curling his fingers and rubbing them slowly against his sweet spot. Dick mewled, thighs shaking. “You’d know it was tonight if paid attention.”

Wally laughed, pulling his fingers out and flipping Dick onto his back, reaching out with slick fingers and wrapping them around his flushed cock, stroking him firmly. Not too fast, not wanting Dick to come just yet. But enough that he was tossing his head back.

“Sorry babe,” he whispered, leaning over him, kissing alone one rib. “I’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

“We’ve been-ah!” Dick arched, pushing up into Wally’s fist. “Bonded for five months Wall-y.” His name broke on Dick’s tongue, the Omega biting at his lip as he spread his thighs wider.

Yeah. And this was Dick’s third heat since their bond. And Wally knew he should be able to tell, should have paid more attention to the way his Omega had been acting, the past few days. That morning even, when Dick had curled up around him, hadn’t wanted him to leave the bed. And god, he had smelled sweet then, too, if Wally was honest.

If it weren’t for the bond, Wally probably would have missed tonight entirely. Had something he should have been taking care of, but had that strange feeling that Dick just needed him. He’d pawned it off on Bart and told the younger speedster to call him in the morning and let it him know how it had gone.

And boy, was he glad he’d listened to that feeling.

He reached for Dick’s hand, pulling it up to him. He kissed his palm, the tips of his fingers- sucked on two, tasted that lingering sweetness, and grinned as he laced their fingers together.

“Started without me, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t even-” another break, as Wally squeezed his cock. “-Even think you’d come home.”

That almost stung a little. Wally released his cock, grasping at his thighs, shifting his legs until they were raised, pressed against the Alpha’s hips. Without warning, he thrust into his body, had Dick arching his back so his shoulder blades were digging into the pillows.

The moan that fell from Dick’s lips as he set a quick rhythm was so obscene Wally actually shuddered.

“Babe, I’ll always be here if you need me.” He leaned over, grasped Dick by the arm and pulled him up, his Omega folding in almost half- god bless his flexibility- so Wally could grip his chin with his over hand, kiss him sweetly. Dick sighed into his mouth, reaching for his shoulders to steady them as Wally continued to thrust into him, Dick returning each movement with a roll of his hips.

He knew Wally meant it. Even if he could be rather oblivious, he didn’t doubt that if it were utterly dire, Wally would always be there.


	128. Single Dad AU pt13 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [shybugbatty](http://shybugbatty.tumblr.com/) asked: "I ADORE your brudick single dad AU. If you're interested, I'd love to see the press getting wind of the relationship."

I HAVE BEEN HOLDING ONTO THIS PROMPT UNTIL WE GOT TO THE RIGHT POINT AND I AM READY.

More in the Single Dad AU!

Dick pursed his lips, as the toddler on his lap squirmed, picking up a piece of the- rather large- cupcake Dick had bought them and stuffing it happily into his mouth. Dick laughed, using the plastic fork to cut another small piece.

“Slow down kiddo,” he teased, as Damian grabbed the piece. “You’d think your dad never feeds you.” Which was a lie. Dick had seen the kid’s diet- he wasn’t sure he could pronounce the names of all the fruits in the juices he liked. He didn’t even need to comment on anything else.

Which had left him, a bit worried, that Damian wouldn’t be too interested in mundane sweets. So it was rather pleasing when he found out Damian was all for the giant chocolate cupcake he had bought to share with him. He’d have to thank Tim for telling him about the cute little bakery.

Dick cut himself a piece, popping it into his mouth with the fork. He wondered if Bruce would think this place was cute. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was modern and they had some crazy flavors listed for their pastries.

Could be a cute date idea.

The fact that he could think that made Dick blush a little.

He cut another piece for Damian, this chunk with frosting on it, and he watched as the toddler’s fingers were quickly covered. He could only chuckle.

“I should take a picture of you and send it to daddy,” he teased, and Damian looked up at him, grinning. He had chocolate frosting at the corner of his mouth. Dick would have, too- except he knew that Bruce was stuck in a meeting. The three were originally going to spend the day together, but it had been a rather sudden emergency, and Dick had offered to keep Damian occupied until it was over. They could have the afternoon together, at least.

Dick hadn’t spent too much time alone with the toddler. Normally Bruce was there- or they were at the Manor, and Alfred was bound to be just around a corner. But Dick found he felt almost at ease. Damian behaved for him, and he had to admit- he had a blast with the kid.

He loved the boy like he hadn’t realized he could.

He cut the last piece of the cupcake for Damian, before openly laughing at his sticky fingers and frosting cover mouth.

“Okay little D, sit tight. I’m gonna clean you up.” Dick reached into his bag, settled on the chair next to him, rummaging around. He knew he had some wipes in there, somewhere. Along with an entire change of clothing for Damian. And back up snacks.

If he was thinking about it, he’d realize anyone could have mistaken him for Damian’s dad.

He managed to pull the pack out, getting one free and reaching for Damian’s little hands, wiping them off. The boy squirmed, looking around the room now, as if he wanted to climb down from Dick’s lap and explore.

“Look at me little D,” he said, calmly, and Damian turned so Dick could wipe the frosting from the corner of his mouth. He screwed up his little face, fussing for a minute, before Dick grinned. “There, all done!” The boy pouted for a minute- as if being clean was the worst thing ever- before he leaned into Dick, partially hiding in his shirt.

“Park now?” he whispered, and Dick continued to smile, trying to gather up the mess they had made.

“Soon. I’m gonna clean up and we’re going to go get daddy. And then we’re going to the park.” Damian nodded, and Dick carefully lifted him from his lap, setting him down so he could gather up their mess.

*

Dick chose to the center of the city, instead of taking the bus. It killed the extra time they had, and there was something sweet about holding Damian’s little hand while he excitedly watched the people passing by. Or when he pointed to a building and asked what it was. What is was for. Why it existed.

So many questions that Dick felt like he was back in school again.

By the time they got to Wayne Enterprises, he was carrying Damian, which he loved even more. The boy had a tendency to curl up right into Dick’s shoulder or chest, and he was so utterly warm and smelled like baby shampoo, that Dick’s heart could have burst. He’d take any excuse to carry Damian he was given.

They boarded the elevator, heading up to the eleventh floor- Dick remembered this time. He was still embarrassed about all the times he had gotten lost in this building.

They were barely two steps off the elevator, when Dick heard, “Look, I just need to see Mr. Wayne for a few minutes. It’s just a few simple questions!”

“I’m sorry ma’am. But without an appointment that is impossible. He’s a very busy man.”

Dick shifted Damian a little, taking a moment to study the young blonde, who frowned at the secretary. The older woman simply stared back, and a moment later the girl huffed, turning on her heel and storming away, brushing past Dick without giving him a second glance, until she was on the elevator.

Dick made the mistake of turning, of openly watching. She stared at him for a minute, before glancing at the boy in his arms- and then the doors were closing, before he could see anymore.

“What was that about?” he asked, walking up to the desk. The woman looked at him, and her expression softened. Dick felt as if almost everyone at the office seemed to know him now, even if he and Bruce were still fairly private. The secretaries especially- but that worked in his favor. He was no longer asked if he had an appointment, at least.

“Just a journalist,” she offered, “they stop by all the time. Always wants to know what big deals Wayne Enterprises is working on next. Always want to talk to Bruce. With so many dealings, they always think they’ll find something unethical.” She rolled her eyes, then smiled at Damian. The boy smiled back, clutching at Dick’s shirt as he leaned back a little.

“Little flirt,” Dick teased, and the secretary laughed.

“What’s my son done now?” Dick glanced up, saw Bruce walking down the hallway from an open conference room, loosening his tie.

“He’s just being a little charmer, Mr. Wayne,” the secretary said, as he walked past the desk, taking Damian from Dick’s arms.

The younger man grinned. “Like his dad.” He leaned up, kissed the corner of Bruce’s mouth. “Everything okay?”

“Will be, once I sift through the mountains of paperwork.” He gave a nod and a smile to the secretary, before moving towards the elevator. They climbed on, riding down alone. “But that can wait until tomorrow. I think I promised a certain someone we’d go to the park.”

“Me! Me, me, me!” Damian squirmed happily, throwing his little arms up, and Bruce had to squeeze him tighter to keep his hold on him.

“That’s right Damian.” He leaned in, kissing the boy’s cheek.

“He’s been asking since we left,” Dick pointed out, as the doors opened and they stepped out. “All I heard all day was park, park, park.”

“Were you good for Dee?” Bruce asked, and Damian nodded. “Did you have fun?” Another nod. “What did you do?”

“Cupcake!” The boy nearly screamed, and Dick laughed- couldn’t help it.

“We took a nice walk and little Godzilla here tried to eat his weight in a chocolate cupcake.” Damian pouted, even as Dick ruffled his hair. “He didn’t want to share.”

Bruce laughed as Damian blushed, turning and pressing his face into his father’s shoulder. Dick grinned, leaning in and kissing the boy’s hair.

“But it’s okay. Superheroes need to eat to get their strength. I understand.”

Damian perked right up then, cheering happily as they walked out the doors. If Dick had thought to glance away from his boyfriend and the happy toddler, he might have noticed someone moving to follow them, out the door as well.

*

“It was rough?” Dick asked, standing next to Bruce as the man pushed Damian in a small swing. The boy kept lifting his arms as he crested in height, giving a happy shriek like laugh, as if he might be flying.

“To say the least.” The man sighed. “This deal was already questionable to me. But the things pulled up about the company- I don’t think I can go through with it. Not knowing they’ve got enough questions about their books that they’re probably involved in plenty of illegal business.”

Dick frowned, folding his arms. He found he could actually follow a lot of the basics Bruce told him, about his meetings and business deals. It was the specifics that lost him. This was enough to sound like it could get nasty, fast.

“We were in the process of signing a contract, hence all the paperwork I’ll be looking over tomorrow. With the lawyers, sadly.” He reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose, and Dick stepped in, pushing Damian’s swing.

“At least you caught it,” Dick pointed out, and Bruce shrugged a shoulder. The younger man smiled, leaning in, kissing his cheek. “Really babe, I bet it could’ve been a lot worse.”

Bruce smiled over that, pulling Dick a step back to let Damian’s swing begin to slow down on its own. He wrapped an arm around his waist, settling his chin on Dick’s shoulder.

“What are the odds I can convince you to stay the night tonight?”

“Won’t you need to be at the office early tomorrow?” Dick pointed out, one hand trailing down, rubbing along the arm pressed against his belly.

“Sure, but that’s what coffee is for. To make up for lack of sleep.” Bruce smirked, and Dick laughed, tilting his head back a little.

“You’re wicked.” The arm around his waist squeezed. “And I love it. Besides, I’m sure Jason will enjoy another night to himself.” Bruce grinned, giving a final squeeze before he released Dick, heading over to lift Damian from his swing and take him over towards the slide, which the boy had been eyeing when they first arrived, before he saw the swings.

*

Dick gasped, head tipping back as his hands planted firmly on Bruce’s chest. His lover’s hands were trailing over his hips, behind him to grip at his ass, kneading the flesh as Dick rocked his hips, mouth falling open.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to sex with Bruce.

He wasn’t sure he ever even knew sex could be this good.

His fingers flexed as Bruce helped to guide his hips, pushing up into him. He’d felt so far gone by the time Bruce had finally let him climb into his lap, swore Bruce’s fingers had been inside him for an eternity, bringing him so close but never letting him quite reach the edge.

Which mean he was so close now it was almost embarrassing.

“You’re…cruel…” Dick breathed, his body jostling with each thrust. Bruce smirked up at him, pulling one hand back to reach for one of Dick’s wrists, pull his hand up to his mouth so he could kiss his palms, his fingertips.

“You say cruel, I say I was just making sure you were ready.” Dick tossed his head back, pulling his hand back and arching up, one hand going to his own hair to tug, the other reaching for his cock, wrapping around it and stroking once, slowly, firmly. Bruce groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows and simply watching as Dick rode him. “Fuck, Dick.”

Dick smirked, giving his own cock another stroke. “Hands to yourself,” he breathed, thumb teasing the slit of his cock. “You can touch after I get off. Until then-” he sucked on his lower lip, felt his body shuddering, clenching- but not quite yet, even as his cock leaked over his knuckles, down onto Bruce’s abs beneath him. “-Enjoy the show.”

*

It wasn’t an alarm that woke the both of them, the following morning. It was a knock at the bedroom door- one that had Bruce sitting up, brushing his hair back, as Dick rolled onto his belly, pressing his face into his pillow.

“Good morning Sirs,” Alfred offered, peaking his head in. “Is everyone decent?”

Against his pillow, Dick blushed. He felt Bruce grab the blanket, pulling it up to the small of his back, hiding the fact that Dick was still naked.

“Yes,” Bruce offered, and Alfred stepped in. He had a small tray in hand, which he settled on Bruce’s nightstand. Two cups of coffee- one far lighter than the other, watered down with creamer and an immense amount of sugar. Exactly how Dick liked it.

Alfred knew how Dick liked his coffee.

Little things like that still shocked Dick, made him realize this was all actually happening.

Alfred was pulling something from under his arm, as Bruce lifted his mug of coffee, taking a sip. “You have a bit of time for the news, Master Bruce. Hopefully something uplifting, for your day.”

“Thank you Alfred. Is Damian awake yet?”

“Not a peep from the boy, the last time I checked.”

Bruce grinned. “Maybe he’ll sleep, for once.” Alfred returned the smile, turning and leaving the two. Dick rolled onto his side, resting his face on Bruce’s thigh as Bruce lifted his tablet after setting his coffee down, scrolling through the morning news stories.

“Want me to take him again?” Dick asked. “Or, you know...stay with him for a while. Give Alfred a break. I don’t mind.”

He glanced up when Bruce didn’t respond, and saw he was frowning. Dick furrowed his brow, twisting until he was sitting up, glancing at the story headline.

_Bruce Wayne’s New Beau!_

Dick swallowed thickly. _Oh god._

He dared to glance at the first few lines. _Bruce Wayne was too busy to comment on the recent dealings with a foreign energy company- but not too busy to join his young son and apparent lover for an afternoon out in the city!_

Below, there was a picture of Bruce carrying Damian, leaving Wayne Enterprises, Dick right next to them. And then next to it, one of Dick kissing Bruce’s cheek, while Damian was on the swing.

_Wayne has kept information regarding his son very private, so this reporter isn’t shocked he kept having a boyfriend a secret as well! Gotham’s favorite heart throb, gay! Who knew?_

Dick glanced away. He didn’t feel the need to continue on.

“Fuck,” Bruce cursed, before tossing the tablet towards the end of the bed. He reached up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve worked so hard to keep Damian out of the spotlight as much as possible.”

“You’ve done a good job,” Dick offered, reaching up and rubbing at one of his shoulders.

“I should have realized you’d get dragged into this,” Bruce continued, “Dammit, I’m sorry Dick.”

“Why? It’s okay. I don’t mind. I mean...it’s not hurting me.” He leaned in, kissed Bruce’s shoulder, an inch below then, almost nuzzling his warm skin. “I swing both ways and my friends know that. No harm. Besides, they know about you.”

“No,” Bruce continued, “It’s not that. I’m sorry, because they’re not going to leave you alone now.”

Dick paused, realizing that Bruce probably had a point. In Gotham, Bruce was as good as celebrity- and well, Dick was dating him. He was bound to get some journalists crawling into his space. He should have realized, beforehand.

Bruce excused himself to shower, to calm down, and Dick reached for the tablet, clicking on the authro’s name. A picture of a smiling blonde popped up, and Dick recognized her. 

The woman who had been demanding to see Bruce, when he arrived. Who had gotten on the elevator, stared at him, at Damian.

He should have known then. He felt stupid for missing it, for not even thinking about the media. He’d been lucky, in the few months this whole affair and relationship had gone- he hadn’t experienced it at all.

_Guess it had to start sometime._

He glanced down at the author’s name, frowning. _Stephanie Brown_.

Dick didn’t care all that much if she decided to take an interest in him. But he could promise she would want to rethink dragging little Damian into the mix.


	129. Eye-Sex (DickWally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "DickWally for the "You’ve got to pretend-date your best friend for a couple of weeks because reasons..." Maybe as Nightwing instead of Robin? And everyone is just like you're not being sneaky jfc"
> 
> Full prompt: “You’ve got to pretend-date your best friend for a couple of weeks because reasons, and somehow that means we’re passing ourselves off as siblings to explain why we live together but we’ve started giving each other really filthy pre-sex looks behind everyone’s back like a game of chicken and pretty soon somebody is going to start to have serious concerns about our siblinghood.”

Wally was laughing, the full on, head tilted back, cheeks glowing slightly laugh he had where Dick was sure he forgot there was even anyone else in the room. All consuming. The kind that brought the freckles out, along his cheek bones, his nose. That exposed his throat ever so slightly.

The kind that always had Dick staring.

Dick tried to focus on his glass instead, stirring his straw around and watching the ice _clink_ together. 

They’d been at this for three weeks now. _Three weeks_ of pretending to be brothers, of Wally pretending to date someone else. Dick had thought, going in, that it would be easy. Just curb the PDA. They still lived together- hence the whole brother lie- and behind closed doors, nothing had really changed.

 _But three weeks_. It was dragging on too long. Dick was getting restless- to say nothing of Wally. He’d been restless after about three days.

Dick glanced up again, as their target had launched into another story, was glancing about the table at her audience. Wally had stopped laughing, was staring at Dick instead. Dick caught his eye, and Wally’s mouth quirked up into a half smile. The little smirk that Dick recognized.

He returned it, felt his breath hitching in his lungs, silently. He swore Wally had the power to completely unhinge him still, with just those half smiles. It was ridiculous and sometimes he hated himself for it- but hell, he wasn’t going to argue. He’d take any bit of attention he could get, in that moment.

Three weeks was a long time.

He pulled his glass to him, moving the straw into his tongue with his mouth, taking a sip. Wally’s eyes flashed, and Dick saw the tip of his tongue, running along the seam of his lips.

Dick made a point, once he’d set his glass down, to turn and look at their host- their target- for a moment, stretching his neck, exposing his throat, the run of his collar bone in his deep v-neck shirt. He felt Wally’s eyes burning holes into his skin, flecks of hot green acid that he swore glowed like the stars. That left him speechless, _still_. Dick watched her, for a moment, before leaning back in his chair, an arm resting on the back. He felt Wally’s eyes moving along his chest, glanced over just to see them flick back up to his face.

He almost shivered. He felt like Wally was peeling every bit of clothing off with his eyes, down to skin, muscle, bone, the very marrow within. Like Wally was going to crawl utterly inside him with just that look, find all his raw nerves and rub them to life.

Dick shivered, and next to him, he heard M’gann shift, glancing at him. Looking completely unlike herself, with a messy blonde knot at the base of her neck, glasses. Unrecognizable.

It was only then that Dick realized their target had stopped speaking. He glanced at her, noticed she was glancing at him, then towards Wally. And back again. He swallowed thickly.

“Excuse me,” he offered, pushing his chair back from the cute little table they had at the cafe. He moved from the table in quick strides, heard gently behind him, Wally speaking,

“I don’t think my brother is feeling well. I’ll be right back.”

Dick slipped into the bathroom, walking over to the sinks and gripping the counter, staring at himself in the mirror. His cheeks were slightly flushed. He reached up, rubbed his hands over his face, just as the door opened and Wally stepped in, a moment later-

And walked right up behind him, pressing tight against his back, hands running along his sides. “You okay babe?” His voice was teasing, and Dick knew without looking he was smirking.

“Funny.” He leaned back, ass pressed right to Wally’s crotch, before smirking himself. “I could ask you the same thing.”

The redhead leaned in, pressed his mouth to the back of Dick’s neck. “They won’t miss us for a few minutes.” Dick huffed, even as one of Wally’s hands traced the waist of his jeans, before flicking open the button.

“You can’t be serious.”

Dick got his answer when Wally unzipped them and pressed his hand inside. He groaned, as Wally palmed him, before the speedster spun him around, boxing him in against the sinks and tugged the waistband of his underwear down. He had Dick’s cock in hand a moment later, stroking him firmly, thumb running along the tip, growing slick.

Dick gasped, reached back to grip onto the sinks until his knuckles were white. “You’re crazy,” he breathed, and Wally’s smile was wet, obscene, made Dick’s insides tighten up to almost the point of pain.

He pushed towards his fist, instead of stopping him.

“And you’re not asking me to stop,” Wally pointed out, moving in closer, his other hand working open his own jeans. He had his own cock out a moment later, pausing to wrap his fist around the both of them. Dick groaned, hips jerking, cock sliding along Wally’s. The redhead smirked, leaning in, pressing his mouth to Dick’s neck.

“No marks,” Dick breathed, his mind seeming to fail him. Wally gave a little groan- his agreement, before licking a hot strip up Dick’s throat, so he could nibble on his earlobe.

“I can’t wait to get you home,” he breathed, stroking them quickly. Time was, they both knew, limited. Dick groaned, tipping his head back, feeling his belly going tight. “Fuck babe, you’re so hot.”

Dick might have laughed over that, except that he was right on the edge now, and could barely handle breathing. His breath choked, and Wally gripped them tighter, stroking faster. His fist was slick from both of them, pre-cum that Dick wanted to lick off his digits. He groaned, low in his chest, his hips jerking forward, and then he was coming, over Wally’s knuckles and fingers, splashing onto his own cock. Wally moaned, mouth pressed right into Dick’s neck, following a moment later.  
He didn’t release them, simply pressed against Dick, panting into his neck, as the younger swallowed, tried to regain his mental capacity-

God, that had been stupid. They could have been caught. Someone could have _walked in_ -

Still could.

“We’re idiots,” Dick breathed, as Wally straightened up, released them. Dick tucked himself away, as Wally took a moment longer- single handed, the other a sticky mess. “Someone could’ve walked in.”

“But babe, they didn’t That’s the beauty. Live a little.” Wally flashed a grin, before gently brushing past him, washing his hands. Dick rolled his eyes, turning and taking a moment to examine himself in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed- but aside of that, he looked alright.

He could play up the flush to not feeling well.

“We have to get back.” Wally shrugged, drying his hands, following Dick to the door an into the hallway-

Where M’gann was waiting.

“Jesus,” Wally said, jerking back, surprised. “Uh. Have you uh-”

“Been standing here long? Two, three minutes.” She folded her arms, frowning. “You’re going to blow this whole mission.”

“Aw Miss M, we weren’t gone long,” Wally started, and her glare snapped his mouth shut.

“You know what she said, after you left? That there’s _something strange_ , about you two. She’s a little...concerned, over your relationship. Doesn’t think brothers usually look at each other like that.” She glanced at Dick, who sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “You guys aren’t subtle. I understand it’s...hard, to pretend your relationship doesn’t exist. But just keep it up for a bit longer.” She shifted her weight. “And stop with the eye-sex. It’s getting obscene.”

She turned at that, heading away from them. Wally and Dick exchanged glances, before following her quickly.

Silently, Dick was kicking himself. He should have known better, shouldn’t have let Wally’s look get to him.

But boy, he couldn’t wait until this mission was over.


	130. CIA AU (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: "JayDick for the CIA assassination gone wrong prompt please with Jason being the target and Dick having to explain to Bruce that he wasn't invited to the wedding and Damian in the background like yoU JOINED THE EFFING CIA GRAYSON"
> 
> Full prompt: "My parents thought I was working for an insurance company in New York when really I was joining the CIA so I just sort of never mentioned when I met you on an assassination-gone-wrong and now we’ve been married for five years and they still don’t know you exist, this has gotten wildly out of hand and you won’t stop laughing about it”
> 
> Capeless AU where Bruce still adopted Dick, and probably Cass even tho she isn’t featured, but that’s it.

“I couldn’t really explain it at the time,” Dick admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Across form him, sitting on the couch, Bruce was watching, tight lipped. Damian had his legs folded up, arms crossed- scowling. “It was on a job, and I wasn’t allowed to talk about my...employment back then.”

The two continued to stare, and Dick felt the heat draining from his body entirely.

“Look, you’d like him,” he continued, “really. Jason is...nice. He’s turned around a lot. In fact, our whole meeting was a game changer for the whole mission. He’s sweet to me.” Dick pulled his hand back, glancing at the gold wedding band on his finger.

There was another lapse of silence, before Bruce finally broke it. “...Five years, Dick.” Dick swallowed. “That’s a long time.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I just...I got caught up in the job. I could’ve gotten out sooner, and maybe I should have- so I could come clean. But well...boy was it a total rush.” He offered a sheepish grin, as Bruce continued to study him.

Finally, Damian huffed, pushing himself off the couch. He crossed the space, staring up at his older brother, before throwing his arms up and screaming, “ _You joined the freaking CIA Grayson!_ ”

Dick flinched, and Bruce was moving off the couch, gripping Damian’s shoulder and pulling him back. The boy was shouting now, not even in English. Dick knew that meant he was _pissed_. But whether it was about him joining the CIA, or having been married for the past five years- well, he wasn’t sure.

“Go blow some steam off,” Bruce said, turning Damian and giving him a gentle shove towards the door. The teen rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue but leaving as instructed. Dick knew he’d get a verbal beating from his younger brother later.

He glanced back at Bruce, who stilled seemed almost expressionless. And god, he hated that the man could do that.

“I want to meet him,” Bruce finally offered, and Dick reached across his own belly, fiddling with his wedding band. A habit he’d picked up, for when he was nervous.

“Good. I mean, I want you to meet him. You...You should have a long time ago. I’m sorry Bruce. I really am. I just...I couldn’t tell you guys. Not with the work I was doing.” Bruce sighed, reaching out and placing a hand on Dick’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

This time, he offered a small smile.

“So then, the insurance company job was a cover?” Dick grinned at that.

“Oh god, yes. I would’ve thrown myself from a window.” Bruce chuckled.

“Good. Because I always wondered.” Another squeeze. “What are you doing now?”

“Still with the CIA. No longer covert ops. People are at least allowed to know I work for the government.” He paused, before, “I would’ve loved for you to have been there. And Damian too. It...it was such a great day, Bruce.”

The man pulled Dick into his arms, the younger going still for a moment, before embracing him back.

“I would’ve loved to have been there,” he admitted, “But as long as you were happy.”

Dick smiled into his shoulder, letting himself get lost in the embrace for a moment. It felt good to come clean to the family. Even if he was sure it’d take a lot of smoothing over with Damian. Plus, he was sure they’d grow to like Jason- if they didn’t like him on first meeting.  
He made Dick so happy, how could they not?


	131. My Place, or Yours? (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "My friend is so determined to fix me up with somebody better than my string of casual coffee date/hookup partners that I didn’t have the heart to tell her, after she set us up for a blind date, that I actually met you six months ago ( dickdami tho ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )
> 
> Basically AU that Tim is still adopted, and probably Cass again not mentioned I gotta fix that, but no one else!

Damian tapped his fingers on the table, as across from him, Dick was grinning.

“Keep grinning like that, and they’ll know something is up,” he pointed out, and Dick reached for his glass, trying to hide behind it as he took a drink.

“Sorry,” he whispered, setting it down. “It’s just...funny.” Damian huffed, folding his arms.

“I find Colin’s interest in his perceived lack of my love life not interesting. Why should it matter?” Dick rolled his eyes.

“Not that. I find it interesting that Colin and Babs seemed to think we’d be a good match. I mean...” he stretched his leg out, catching his foot behind Damian’s ankle, under the table. “We are, after all.”

Damian smiled for a moment, before catching himself, setting his mouth back in a frown. He knew Colin at the cafe as well, seated a few tables away with Maps, watching intently. He knew because he knew his best friend and wouldn’t put it past him to spy. Nor would he put it past Maps to take him up on an invite.

He couldn’t fathom why his lack of a love life was so intriguing.

Granted, there wasn’t a real lack at all. He’d been with Dick for about six months now. Just hadn’t bothered to really mention it. They were very lowkey- there was a decent age difference that seemed to worry Dick at first, and he hadn’t wanted to cause any gossip for Bruce Wayne’s son.

“How do they even know each other?” Damian asked, folding his hands and leaning his chin on them. He was trying to not study Dick. But it was hard- he had those eyes that Damian couldn’t get enough of, that got smile lines around them when he laughed. Pretty, was the word.

Dick had used the same word on him, and Damian thought that was absurd.

“Babs knows this chick, Stephanie-”

“Oh, Drake’s ex.” _And oddly, best friend_. But Damian didn’t feel the need to point that out. He was sure Dick knew.

“Yeah. Anyway, she said she knew someone who _knew a cute, younger guy who really needed to get some_.” Damian’s cheeks flushed, and he leaned back in his chair, as Dick chuckled. “She thought I might be just what you needed.”

“And why-”

“Oh, you know babe. I’m pretty good at what I do.” Dick winked, picking up his glass again and taking a drink. Damian reached up with one hand, pressing his mouth into his palm, fingers curling over one cheek. He wondered if Colin could tell that he was blushing.

“Grayson-”

“It’s the truth. What did they feed you?”

“Nothing! Just that...Drake knew someone who he thought might be my...type.”

“So, ten years older than you with a killer smile?” _And body. And the sex skills of a god_. But Damian didn’t feel the need to fill those in.

“Essentially.” He reached for a menu, opening it up and idly looking over his limited options. At least his friends had taken into account his vegetarian diet.

“So, how are we playing this out?”

“Hmm?” Damian glanced up, and Dick had his chin resting on one hand.

“Are we playing this up? Make it seem like they succeeded?” Damian said nothing, and Dick’s smile grew. “Could be fun.”

“Do we break it to them?” Damian asked.

“After. Maybe tomorrow. Let them think they did a good job.” The younger shrugged a shoulder.

“Alright.” He didn’t see the harm in playing along. Besides, it could be quite fun to get his friends’ hopes up so high before cluing them in that the gorgeous man across from him was already his boyfriend.

“So, just one question,” Dick offered, catching Damian’s gaze. “My place, or yours?”


	132. Professor AU (SuperBat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "We're both professors in the same department au with superbat?? I think thatd be funny/cute xo"
> 
> Full prompt “We’re both professors in the same department and it enhances your reputation with the students as a mysterious enigma and my reputation as a stone-cold terror if we pretend to hate each other, plus when we back each other up in departmental meetings everybody’s so surprised they give in right away”

“I swear these kids don’t ever pick up a damn book,” Bruce gritted out, letting the paper he was holding fall to the table. Clark glanced up from his own stack, his pen poised, ready to mark.

“Bad bunch this semester?” Bruce nodded, pushing his chair back, heading for the coffee machine. The office was blissfully empty. Bruce could have done the grading in his own personal office, but that would have led to the possibility of his students showing up. And while he did want to help, he was frustrated enough with them in that moment that he didn’t want to see them outside of class and office hours.

Besides, it was a chance to see Clark.

“They’ll come around. It’s early still. Aren’t a lot of them freshmen?” Another nod. “Still not out of that high school mentality. Give them another couple weeks. Another paper.”

“Give myself a bullet between the teeth.” He sat back down, taking a drink of his coffee. It was only lukewarm, which was disappointing.

Clark chuckled, grabbing one of the papers and glancing over it. Bruce let him, sipping at his coffee despite that it was underwhelming.

“It’s not that bad,” he reasoned, “Especially for freshmen. You’re too hard on them, Bruce.”

“They have to learn.” Bruce took the paper back, setting his coffee down and grabbing his pen, writing a note in the margin. Clark watched, before rolling his eyes.

“No wonder the students are terrified of you.” Bruce didn’t look up. He liked it that way. Let them be terrified- it usually meant the kids tried extra hard. That they learned something.

Maybe not this lot.

“So, the department meeting later,” Clark continued, “Come over for dinner after?” Bruce didn’t glance up, and Clark shook his head, leaning in and nuzzling at Bruce’s neck. “Hey handsome, I think I just invited you over for dinner. Pay attention a little?”

Bruce glanced over at him, setting the paper down again. “Sorry,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to Clark’s forehead. “That’d be great.”

Clark smiled, before they heard voices, outside the office door. Clark leaned back, glancing at Bruce, who gave him a playful smile.

The moment the door opened, Bruce started.

“They obviously don’t care,” he said, rather loudly, and Clark frowned.

“Maybe if you actually _taught_ , they would be doing better.”

“What are you insinuating?” Bruce glared, heard the office door close again with a quiet, _oh gosh they’re at it again_ , and held his glare until he saw Clark break into a smile. Bruce chuckled, reaching out and cupping the back of Clark’s neck. “Convincing?”

“Oh, definitely. As always.” He allowed himself to be pulled in for a quick kiss. “So for the meeting. I’ll suggest the addition of more spots for grad student TAs, and you back me up?”

“Perfect.” Bruce stole another quick kiss, before standing up. “I’d better make an exit. So they have something to talk about.” He gathered up his papers, shoving them in his bag, before grabbing his-now godawful- coffee, and heading for the door.


	133. Apocalypse AU (SuperBat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Either BruDick or Superbat for "when I walked into the negotiation room to sit down with the fearsome and terrible politician/businessperson/famed warrior that all my people are so afraid of, I didn’t really expect it to be you" because I honestly cannot decide between the two of them dear lord"
> 
> Full prompt “ We’ve been communicating entirely by email/phone/carrier pigeon/paid messenger for the past year as we work to bring some peace and order to this troubled land, so when I walked into the negotiation room to sit down with the fearsome and terrible politician/businessperson/famed warrior that all my people are so afraid of, I didn’t really expect it to be you.”
> 
> I’m gonna go with SuperBat again actually! I could use the practice. I’m going with some strange apocalyptic like setting. And it got so out of hand and I love the whole verse that was just birthed.

Clark adjusted his cape, feeling strange in the darker colors. The sun saw only about six hours of life now, left the world in mostly darkness. His blue had been replaced with black, his red darkened in an almost dried-blood rust. It helped to keep him more concealed, as he moved.

Which he needed. The lack of sun had done a number on him- on all the _Supers_. Strength diminishing, they had to be spares with their flight- among other amplified human senses going dim to almost a regular human level. It had been so long since Clark had heard anyone’s heart beat when he was more than a few feet from them.

Still, they survived. He knew Kon was still out there- had seen the boy a few weeks prior, when he’d come in to check on Clark and the survivors that now worked to make Metropolis a home again. Forced underground, subway tunnels had been turned into the main rout of travel- by foot, only. Clark had worked to help create as secure as possible entrances from some buildings to the subways, to try to keep everyone in doors as much as possible.

The world was no longer safe after dark.

Which was nearly all the time.

Whatever had given sudden change to the Sun’s life, had awoken something on the planet. Plants grew strangely now- over sized- which made no sense to him. They should have been malnourished. But sickly vines over took buildings with ease- seeped a sticky purple substances when cut. It was poisonous, but not fatal unless taken in large doses. They could work around them.

The animals had become strange though. Growing, as if something was in the air. Turning ravenous, if not kept under close watch. Kept socialized.

And there were the wandering hordes of people, who had seen the opportunity for unrest and taken it. Or were simply desperate.

Everyone was desperate.

Which was why Clark was here. A band had been moving around Metropolis, creeping into the city limits within the dark. When confronted- they were hostile. Perhaps out of fear, but Clark wasn’t sure. One of them had given him a letter, addressed to no one, stating that they were looking to replenish resources for their people.

The group had seemed a mixed lot- from no one city. Different accents. Clark didn’t recognize them.

He had returned a letter, stating that he would be willing to meet with their leader, to negotiate terms. He wanted to be friendly. But he knew he had to be cautious. He had lives at stake- that looked to him. As their former hero.

He thought _former_ with a bitter bite to his own tongue.

He had listened to the small band discuss their leader, when one of his people had asked who they were. Who was leading them. A woman had simply said, with a grin, that _he was a shadow, nothing more_. Clark hadn’t liked it.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, waiting outside the city limits, on the ragged, cracked road. As a jeep drove up.

He was alone. He had refused to allow his people to stand with him- in case of danger. And he had refused to have a possible enemy surround him- but he knew they were close by. Figured if their leader yelled, they would appear.

The jeep pulled to a stop. There was a woman behind the wheel, staring at Clark with almond shaped eyes, tussled, uneven black hair. Her lower face was covered entirely by a close fitted mask. As if she didn’t speak.

There was something about her, but in this light- with his eyes damn near almost human- it was hard to say. He wished he had demanded a daylight meeting. It was dangerous, after dark. And his powers, they were weaker. He felt like he needed to bathe within the sun.

The door passenger door opened, and Clark waited as a shadow- yes, that was all he was, a shadow- stepped out. He walked around the Jeep, as its engine shut off, and the blinding lights gave way to starlight, moonlight, and-

“Bruce?”

Clark stared at the man who had circled around to the hood of the jeep. No cowl, no cape, no suit. Combat boots, gloves, full on black clothing but _not Batman_.

Bruce cracked a grin- a real, honest to god grin- and Clark, for the first time in months, heard the gentle beat of the man’s heart. Like a sweet melodic hum, in the back of his mind. How he’d missed it.

Bruce crossed the space, walking in steady, even strides to Clark. He eyed him, once- twice then, a little slower, and Clark almost shivered.

“You kept the cape,” he mused, and Clark grinned.

“I’m a symbol. Have to keep up appearances.” Bruce nodded.

“The sun-”

“Messed with my system. But I’m not useless.” He reached out, clamped a hand over Bruce’s shoulder. Fought down the urge to pull him in, kiss him, feel his stubble under his fingers, against his palms.

It had been months. He couldn’t be sure where they stood- it had been strange, even before the world had caved in. Hadn’t been sure.

Bruce gave him a nod.

“Are you...what happened to Gotham?”

“Still standing,” Bruce offered, “Barbara keeps a close eye over it.”

Clark nodded. Then, carefully, “And the rest?”

“Damian is with her. Dick is...” Bruce paused, “Isn’t dead, Clark. But it’s complicated. With this mess, I haven’t heard from him since before it began. I don’t know if he’s alive, or dead.” Clark said nothing, only gave a nod.

“And Tim?” Clark knew Kon would care, knew the boy had done his best to hunt down his lover when this mess had started. And that he had failed.

“Tim, Jason, and Stephanie have both been MIA since shortly after this began. I have no idea where they are. If they’re alive.” He glanced back at the car. “Cassandra is with me.” The woman in the car didn’t move- and Clark could think, for a moment, that she was the shadow the men had spoken of.

“What are you doing out here?”

“We’ve got a problem,” Bruce admitted, “There’s still...trouble. Crane has been a problem, for me. He’s using his fear toxin on the animals. They’re monstrous in Gotham, Clark. He wants to take the city.”

“You’ve handled him before,” Clark pointed out, and Bruce huffed.

“Not in circumstances like this. Not when he’s desperate. What does he have to lose? And I have a city to protect. That’s why we’re here. We think some of his...followers have been waiting as sleeper agents in the city. I’ve taken who I think they are with us. They think, that while we’re here under the guise of looking for resources and other survivors, they can gather materials he needs for his toxin.”

“What could he need here?” Clark glanced back at the dark, sleeping city.

“You’ve got a plant problem that he’s interested in. Those vines all over your city. They have a sap that works with very few additives to create his toxin.”

Clark raised an eyebrow. “They’re all over the city Bruce. Useless, mildly toxic. Aren’t they all over Gotham?”

“Ivy has kept them fairly under control.”

“You have Ivy on _your_ side?”

Bruce smirked. “Times have changed, Clark.” The meta nodded, eyes drifting from Bruce’s down to his mouth, for a moment. Bruce seemed to catch the movement- Clark shouldn’t have been shocked over that- and his mouth quirked into the smallest of smirks. He reached out, grabbed a fistful of Clark’s cape, and tugged him in, mouth covering his. Clark relaxed into it, the way he had before this mess- when Bruce had kissed him and it had been something he’d wanted for _a damn long time_.

Some things didn’t change.

He wrapped an arm around his neck, holding him close as Bruce licked into his mouth, pressed the meta’s tongue down beneath his own. Clark gave a little sound, pressed flush against Bruce and tilting his head, allowing him in deeper.

When the man finally did break away, his breath came in pants, against Clark’s wet mouth.

“I missed you,” Clark admitted, and Bruce’s eyes gleamed.

“I missed you too.” He pressed another kiss to his lips- soft and quick this time- before pulling back. “But you can’t let my people see us like this.”

Clark felt his chest seizing up. “What? Why not?”

“Because. End of the world or not- they don’t know I am...was, Batman. And that’s giving me an advantage with Crane.” He let go of the cape, let his hand press flat against Clark’s chest. “You can know me, who I am. But whatever you had with Batman, they can’t see you having it with me.”

Clark wanted to fight that- oh, how he wanted to. Like he’d wanted to fight the secrecy around them, always. But he could see Bruce’s reason- and knew, now more than ever, the man would be stubborn. Lives quite literally did rest on his shoulders. Clark knew he wouldn’t be able to get him to budge.

“Understood,” he offered, letting his eyes drop. Bruce frowned, reached up with his other hand, gripping Clark’s chin. He tilted it back up, before letting his thumb move to his cheek, rubbing gently.

“Hey,” he whispered, gruff and hoarse and low, like sand on rocks, and Clark kept down a shiver. Bruce found his eyes again, held them. “I’m glad to see you.”

That was it. That would have to be enough. Clark knew he couldn’t expect anything more- not now, not when they were suddenly back in each other’s lives. Not when there was such a mess to be figured out.  
It would suffice.

At least he could hear Bruce’s heart beat again. And the way it spiked, ever so slightly, when Clark smiled gently, offering up, “I’m glad to see you too.”


	134. He'll Never Know (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [violetscythe](http://violetscythe.tumblr.com/) asked: "We’ve been communicating entirely by email/phone/carrier pigeon/paid messenger for the past year as we work to bring some peace and order to this troubled land, so when I walked into the negotiation room to sit down with the fearsome and terrible politician/businessperson/famed warrior that all my people are so afraid of, I didn’t really expect it to be you. (Dick/Dami please)"

Dick sat in his chair, at Helena’s right side. The table was utterly bare, except for the tablet she had set down, that she could use to pull up whatever she desired on the screens that circled the room.

He felt at ease, as he always seemed to, these days. Years with Spyral at left him at an odd tranquility. Had given him the opportunity to forget things, barriers he’d once had.

Just as he felt he had been forgotten.

The doors opened and he waited, expecting their visitor to be a Justice League member. Not that any would recognize him, with the Hypnos implant. Besides, the League had probably gained new members, since his time with Batman. He was almost sure he wouldn’t recognize their ambassador.

However, the young man that walked through those doors proved him wrong.

It didn’t matter that he wore his mask, that it had been countless years since he’s seen him- Dick would have recognized the boy anywhere. Robin. His Robin.

Damian.

Years older now, much taller- though Dick thought perhaps he may still have an inch on the boy. His face had thinned out, and he boasted Talia’s strong cheekbones now. Behind his mask, Dick could imagine his startling blue eyes still had that slightly almond shape he had inherited from her as well.

Next to him, Helena leaned forward, lacing her fingers together and smiling at the boy. Dick realized he was holding his breath, and quietly he let it rush out.

“If we’re such a threat,” she mused, “I would think the Justice League would send us more than a _child_.”

Damian held his tongue, pausing when he reached the table. His costume hadn’t changed- but then again, it had always seemed far less juvenile than Dick’s costume had, when he’d been Robin.

“You’re out of date with League members,” Damian said, evenly- and god, his voice. It had dropped, came out cool and from his chest, and Dick fought down a shiver. It shouldn’t have had that reaction. “They’re all quite young. And we’re...stretched thin, as of late.” He held his hands out, palm up, his chin steady, jaw firm. “I’m what you get.”

Helena frowned, before launching directly into the conversation. Dick had stopped listening- but not staring. It seemed impossible to pull his eyes from Damian. This had been the small boy he’d given that suit to. The boy he’d had to carry in, sleeping, after Patrol.

The kid he’s missed grow up.

And god, he’s grown up _beautifully_.

Maybe if he hadn’t been taken off guard, he’d think these thoughts were inappropriate. That this was the boy who had been his brother, his Robin. But in this moment, he didn’t care.

The world had suddenly given Damian back to him.

And the boy had no idea.

Dick tilted his head, wondered what Damian saw when he looked at him. He could will the Hypnos to project a certain image, but at Helena’s recommendation, simply allowed it to blur his features until he was faceless, for this meeting. He realized he knew exactly who this boy was, could look at him all he wanted- and Damian would never know him.

There was heart break, but also a thrill in that.

Dick chose not to focus on the heart break.

Damian cocked his head, slightly, as he listened. He could see the beginning of his throat. He followed the line of it down into his suit, over his chest- lithe, compact muscle. He hadn’t grown like Bruce at all- but so much like his mother. His waist was narrow, and Dick would bet he’d be able to see the juts of his hips, were he to strip that suit away.

That would be a thought that would keep him up later- that shame that he had thought it, and the thrill over wondering what his scarred, copper skin looked like.

He could blame it on being cut off from the family, from anyone, for years. He could do that all he wanted. It wouldn’t matter. Wouldn’t change a thing.

Damian was pretty. Damian had grown up.

Damian was standing right there, and as he turned, looked at Dick blankly- Dick knew he had no idea who he was.

And he never would.

So what was the harm in a little fantasy?


	135. Sleep Alone (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Ok, so what if Damian got into a fight with Dick so he kicked him out. But then he just can't resist and begs Dick too come home over phone at 3 am"
> 
> This wasn't really a prompt, just something for me to ponder...and then I wrote a ficlet ._.

Damian pressed his cheek into his pillow, the dark of his bedroom feeling heavy around his. His hand poked out from beneath his blanket, holding his phone against his ear as it rang, and rang, _and rang_.

It went to voicemail, and Damian was treated to the sound of Dick’s voice, claiming he was unable to answer his phone. The teen huffed.

This was the third time he’d heard it.

He hung up before the recording ended, closing his eyes for a moment. Thinking maybe he’d fall asleep this time. Maybe he’d open his eyes again and it would be daylight, and this would all wash over.

But his tired mind did not yield. His bed was too empty- the space Dick had taken up, over an hour prior, now cold. Damian shifted his legs, and where normally his foot would press to one of Dick’s legs, it found nothing except more blanket.

He regretted yelling at him to leave. It had been harsh- and he knew that, after only about twenty minutes alone. Though it had taken him nearly an hour to actually try to call Dick.

He looked at it his phone, unlocking it and pressing Dick’s name again, holding it back to his ear. This time it rang once, before it was sent to voicemail. 

Dick was ignoring his calls.

He couldn’t blame the man driving all the way back to his apartment now- had he gone all the way to Bludhaven? Damian knew he had one in Gotham, as well. Thought maybe he would have gone there. Hoped, even. It would’ve been easier to convince him to come back, that way.

The recording ended, and Damian hesitated, thinking he should hang up again. Then, a moment later, “Grayson.”

He paused, licked his lips.

“Grayson, I...”

He sighed, closed his eyes. Thought of the way he fit so perfectly when pulled back against Dick’s chest. Thought of how soothing it was to have the man breathing into his hair. How the arm that always rested over his waist would squeeze him in the night. How Dick somehow always found a way to shift closer by the time morning had come.

He swallowed thickly, feeling cold. _Lonely_.

“Grayson, I’m sorry.”

Damian squeezed his eyes shut, let his breath rush out. He wouldn’t cry. He didn’t cry. He was beyond that, he _wasn’t a child_.

He didn’t need Dick there, in that moment.  
This could wait, until morning.

_But he didn’t like to sleep alone._


	136. Sleep Alone pt2 (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Oh god that ficlet is so beautiful. Is there anyway we can get a before or Dick POV. It's some of your best work yet"
> 
> I am way too lazy to figure out why they're fighting, so here's just some of Dick's POV.

Dick gripped the steering wheel of his car, speeding down the highway. Behind him, Gotham had disappeared against the black skyline, left only the headlights of other cars and the stars to keep him company. Ahead, he could see the faint lines of the buildings in Bludhaven. Twenty minutes, he’d be in the city, at his apartment.

If he kept up at this speed.

His jaw ached, and he realized he’d been gritting his teeth the entire drive. He tried to relax, to ease the tension from his face, his shoulders- but to no avail.

It was after three AM, and he should have been in bed. Should have been wrapped around Damian, fast asleep.

Maybe he was crazy. Maybe tonight should serve as a wake-up call. That Damian was a _teenager_. That it didn’t matter that he was Damian, he was still young.

Maybe too young for Dick.

He sighed, felt his exhaustion kicking in as he crossed lanes for the exit to Bludhaven. His body ached, as if he hadn’t slept in days. As if Damian screaming at him to _get out, just get the hell out_ , had actually been a punch to his ribs, shattering bone.

He pulled his car up to the curb, setting it in park and leaning his head back, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment. If he opened the door, it would be cold. While the skies had been clear in Gotham, there was a drizzle of chilled rain in Bludhaven.

He should be snuggled against Damian’s back. He should have the boy leaning back against him, even twisting in the night until he was facing Dick, face pressed into the heat of his chest. He _shouldn’t be alone_.

Dick groaned, pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw bursts against the black of his eyelids. Then, taking a breath, he opened his car door, stepping out into the chilled Autumn night. He shivered, instantly, heading for the door of his apartment complex.

He didn’t even have his hand out for it when he felt his phone vibrate, in his pocket. He reached for it, unlocking it- saw Damian’s name, along with a missed call count, listing his name again. _And again_.

Dick wanted to answer it. His finger hovered over the screen, for a moment, before he clicked ignore, and pocketed his phone, heading into the building. He made his way up the stairs to his apartment, unlocking the door and slipping inside. Dick didn’t bother with a light, kicking his shoes off as he relocked the door, and walking in the dark straight to his bedroom.

He flopped down on his bed, pressing his face into his pillow. He inhaled- it smelled like his own shampoo. Damian hadn’t spent the night since before he had last washed his sheets. They smelled like him, and him alone.

He rolled onto his back, tugging his phone from his pocket again. One voicemail. He stared at it, knowing it was Damian. And what could the teen even have to say?

He wanted to listen to it. Wanted to hear Damian’s voice. Wanted him to be sorry, to ask Dick to come back. He would have, too. Would’ve climbed back in his car, driven all the way back to the Manor.

Anything to sleep with Damian in his arms.

Instead, he let his phone go dark, then fall from his hand to the best, to get lost in his sheets. He rolled to his side, a hand sliding under his pillow, along the cool sheets- the hand that should have found Damian’s belly, rested over warm skin.

Why only disappoint himself? Damian wasn’t going to apologize. He wasn’t going to _learn_.

He was a kid. What was Dick doing with a kid?


	137. The Corey Verse pt2 (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "please please please continue that jaytim precious baby corey prompt. with family time or jason cussing out bruce saying tim needs more time off to spend with the family"
> 
> This has been in my drafts forever on Tumblr. I've wanted to fill it forever and just kept not getting to it. This AU was way over due (I really really like it so...)

Jason glanced at the boy who happily sat at the small table, situated in the center of the therapist’s office. Corey was focused on his coloring book, his box of crayons open, but not spilled on the table. Each crayon had to be put back after use, before another could be removed.

“Mr. Todd,” the woman next to him said, gently placing a hand on his arm, “In the hallway. He’ll be alright for a minute.”

Jason nodded, turning away from the boy, following her into the hallway. She was holding a folder, open casually in one hand.

The door clicked closed, and she smiled.

“He’s made some vast improvement,” she offered, “From when he first came under the system’s care. And from when you first adopted him. Verbal communication has gone up exponentially. He seems bolder.” Her smile grew. “He seems comfortable, Mr. Todd. _Happy_.”

Jason exhaled, offering her a smile. He knew the change had happened, in Corey, slowly. But there was something about others recognizing it.

Somewhere in him, he feared losing the boy. As if perhaps he wouldn’t be a fit enough father.

The therapist was looking down at her folder again. “I do have one concern though.” She paused, then, “Your partner has not been to one of these sessions in a very long time.”

Jason felt his heart drop. He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Tim has been…busy. He’s working while I stay home with Corey. It’s been tough on him. He wants to be here, I know he does. But he can’t get away. He’s…he’s basically running a company.”

She tapped her pen on the folder, before closing it, holding it against her chest. “I know who he is, and I can imagine that he is a very busy man. But I think it’s crucial, for Corey, to have you both around as much as possible. He has quite obviously warmed up to you. I have no fears over that. But I worry your partner’s continued absence will only distance the boy from him. Corey’s been through some traumatic things, Mr. Todd. We cannot forget that.”

Jason bit back his tongue that he knew, understood. Had been through his own share of them.

“And I think Mr. Drake…Wayne…” she paused, and Jason offered her a smile.

“Drake. Drake is fine. He prefers it.”

“Well, Mr. _Drake_ should be present at these meetings, to see his son’s progress. To show his support.” Jason said nothing- wanted to defend Tim, but almost didn’t know who, except to say,

“Tim loves him. He really does.”

She smiled, reaching out to touch Jason’s arm. “I am not doubting that,” she offered, “I wouldn’t dare think such a thing. But have a talk with him. These sessions are important.”

Jason nodded, before she took her hand back and they moved back inside, where Corey still sat, content, coloring away.

*

Tim unlocked the Penthouse door, sliding inside and closing it with a sigh. It was far later than he had anticipated being home, and he felt bad, not calling Jason to let him know. But his first meeting had run over, set the second back- and then there had been a crisis over a _nearly finalized_ deal that need both he _and Bruce’s_ immediate attention-

It had all bled together, and now it was after nine. He locked the door, working his shoes off, before he walked through the penthouse, towards the living room in the back. It was dark, except for the light of the television, which was rolling the credits of some movie. He glanced at the couch, found Jason leaning against the arm, legs stretched out, Corey flopped happily on his chest. Both were sound asleep.

Tim watched them, for a moment, before he stepped closer, holding his hand out. As if he meant to brush Jason’s fringe back, to reach down and stroke Corey’s blond curls.

But he had the crushing feeling that, by touching he would disturb, ruin. As if he did not belong, in this moment.

He reached for the remote instead, clicking the television off. Then, in the dark, he made his way to the bedroom, working his tie open, tossing it off over a chair. He worked the first few buttons on his shirt, before he felt his phone buzzing, in his pocket.

He pulled it out, glancing down and seeing Stephanie’s name. Without hesitation, he accepted, whispering- as if his voice could carry through the entire penthouse, “Steph? It’s late-”

“Two-Face. National Bank. Break in. I’m about to leave but it’ll take me some time. I need a hand.”

Tim frowned. He wasn’t supposed to be on Patrol tonight. He was supposed to get some sleep. He’d been on the past three nights, on top of his long days at the office-

“Steph-”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency, Tim. The GCPD called Batman in on it. Bank’s closed but Harvey’s got some personnel he dragged in from their homes after hours. Probably has some dirt on them.” She paused. “He’s been loose for months, Tim. We could get him back in Arkham _tonight_.”

Tim hesitated, before moving across the room, towards the closet. He opened it, slipping inside and pressing his hand against a small screen on the wall.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He ended the call, shoving the phone into his pocket, and leaned forward, as the computer scanned his eye, before unlocking the hidden compartment, where he kept his gear.

*

The advantage of the Penthouse was a private stairway to the roof. It was the reason Tim had insisted on it, it made leaving for and coming home from Patrol so much easier. He was thankfully, early that morning- it was after three AM- that he didn’t have to climb in through a window.

Couldn’t exactly walk into the complex and right up to his doorway as _Red Robin_.

Tim closed the doorway behind him, taking the small staircase down into the Penthouse. He locked it behind him, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against it, sighing.

It had taken hours. Hours of working with the PD, of clearing out the hostages, of chasing Harvey half way around Gotham. Hours to get him in custody. Tim had expected he’d be home before midnight.

As it was, he’d get maybe three hours of sleep, if he was lucky.

The light flicked on, and Tim’s head jerked up. He turned, found Jason standing in the hallway, arms folded over his chest.

Scowling.

“Where the hell were you?”

“There was an emergency,” Tim started, reaching up to pull his domino mask off. “Stephanie called. Harvey was up to shit.” He raked a hand back through his hair. “Took longer than I thought it would.”

“And you didn’t think to _let me know_?”

“You were sleeping.” Tim folded his arms, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “I found you on the couch. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping when you were supposed to come home earlier.”

Tim sighed. “Look, today was just bad, okay? Everything ran over, shit hit the fan- I didn’t get the chance to call. And then Stephanie…it’s just been a long day.”

Jason huffed. “There’s been a lot of long days recently, Tim.” The younger man frowned.

He was too tired to have Jason dance around his point.

He’d barely slept for days. He felt like his wires were crossed, his nerves raw. And there was no end in sight to it.

“If you have something to say,” he said, rather bitter, “say it, Jason.”

“You’re never around. You haven’t seen Corey or I in days. I fall asleep and you’re not home. I wake up, you’re gone. You haven’t do a single thing with Corey in over a week Tim. And you missed another session.”

 _Fuck. That was this week_. Tim reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Jason, I’m sorry. I know, it’s been crazy. I’ll…I’ll figure something out. I’ll make something work, make it up to you two.”

Jason’s arms fell to his side, and the look he gave Tim was…disbelieving. Faithless. _It hurt_.

“You’ve said this before,” Jason pointed out, “And it hasn’t happened, Tim. Things are different now. We have a baby. You can’t just…run yourself ragged. You’ve gotta be around. Something has to give.”

“Nothing can _give_ , Jason. You know that.” He pushed himself off the wall. “I’m running a damn company. Bruce is getting back into the swing of things and Damian is easing in, but I’m running a damn huge chunk of it all. And the city will never give. She’ll only take.”

“I’m not sure I care at this point.” Jason’s voice had gotten louder. “I really just… don’t care, Tim. This isn’t working. Something has to change. We have a responsibility.”

“We have a _lot_ of responsibilities!” Tim started down the hall, and Jason but his arm out, blocking his path. Tim glance at it, then up at Jason, scowling.

“Jason. Move.”

“We’re not done.”

“Yes, we _are_.” Tim reached for Jason’s arm, shoving it out of the way- causing the larger man to take half a step back, and continued down the small hallway- meant for only a storage closet and their entrance way to the roof- and into the hallway that hosted their bedrooms.

Tim worked his gloves off, stepping into their room. Jason was in the doorway a moment later, watching as Tim unfastened his cape.

“He needs you, you know.” Tim said nothing, didn’t look at Jason. He was exhausted down to his bones. He ached in every muscle. He wanted simply to crawl into bed for his few pathetic hours. He wanted to turn entirely off. Wanted- no, needed the world to stop for a few minutes.

He felt like he was cracking at all his joints, tearing at all his seams.

“Corey misses you. He needs us both, Tim. We’re supposed to be in this together.” Tim glanced up. “I can’t do this alone.”

Tim opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, glancing past Jason, into the hallway. Jason stared at him for a moment, before glancing behind him, following Tim’s eyes.

Corey was standing in the hallway, wringing his little hands along the bottom hem of his pajama top.

“Timmy and Jay fight,” he whispered, and Jason turned fully, offering him a smile.

“We’re not fighting,” he offered, crouching down so he was closer to eye level. “It’s just late and we’re talking. Did we wake you?” Corey nodded. Tim stared, motionless. Still mostly in costume. “I’m sorry kiddo. Lemme put you back to bed.” He opened his arms and Corey walked into them, pressing his face to Jason’s shoulder and holding on as his arms encased him and he stood up, walking down the hallway towards his bedroom.

Tim took the moment to finish stripping of his suit, stashing it away and leaving him in just his underwear. He walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning into his hands, letting his fingers rake back into his hair as his elbows dug into his thighs.

Jason was right. He knew it. He was spread too thin. He couldn’t do this anymore. Something had to give. The company, the city-

Or his family.

The problem was, he knew none of those things could.

He was still sitting like that when Jason returned, flicking the light of their bedroom on. He leaned against the doorway, silently, before Tim finally offered, in a quiet, hoarse voice,

“Tell me I can fix this.” He didn’t look up, and Jason watched his shoulder shake, once. The next time he spoke, the words cracked, “God Jay, please, tell me I can.”

Jason walked over, kneeling down on the ground, resting his hands on Tim’s knees. He glanced up, found Tim’s tired eyes, wet in the corners.

“Babe,” he whispered, squeezing Tim’s knees. “It’s...it’ll be okay. You can fix it. Of course you can. We can.” He leaned in closer, sliding his hands long Tim’s thighs, dislodging his elbows so Tim was forced to move his hands, to let them fall to his sides and stare down at Jason. “It’ll take some work. But we can fix it.”

Tim didn’t say anything. Jason was sure he didn’t quite believe him.

Jason only believed himself because he couldn’t stand to think of a different option.

“I’ll figure it out,” Tim finally whispered, heaving a sigh. He reached up with one hand, fingers tracing Jason’s fringe back. “I promise. I’m gonna fix it. I’ll be around, Jason. I swear.”

Jason turned towards that hand, caught Tim’s wrist in a kiss. “Okay,” he murmured, feeling his pulse against his lips. “Okay Tim. And we’ll talk about this at a better time.” Tim nodded, and Jason rose, slowly, taking Tim’s hand for a moment so he could kiss his palm. “Let’s get you into bed, for now.”

Tim didn’t argue. He slid back, drawing his legs up onto the bed. As he did so, Jason could see the bruising forming along one calf, towards his ankle. He frowned.

“You’re hurt.”

“Bruises. Nothing’s broken. I didn’t bleed.” He offered up a sheepish smile. “Don’t worry. Just turn the light off and get in bed. Please.”

Jason didn’t argue, crossing the room to flick the light off, then crawling into bed beside Tim. He settled on his side, draping an arm over Tim’s waist, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Tim sighed, softly, as Jason settled into the pillows himself.

Minutes later, in the dark, Tim whispered, so softly Jason barely heard him, from his near sleep. “Jason?”

“Hmmm?”

“...I love you.”

Jason squeezed Tim, gently. And that was enough.

*

Tim felt he had barely fallen asleep when he heard his phone buzzing, on the nightstand. He rolled towards it, blindly reaching up, grabbing it and staring at his alarm through heavy lidded eyes. He shut it off, sighing, feeling as if each bone was made of lead, wrapped in barbed wire.

His leg throbbed. He’d be a mess before noon.

Next to him, Jason reached for him, pulling him back against his chest. For a moment, Tim gave in, closing his eyes again, phone still in hand, as Jason’s heat seeped into him, left is aches dulling. He smiled to himself, could almost have fallen back asleep, when his phone began buzzing again. He cracked an eye open, saw Bruce’s name, and forced himself to sit up, answering the call.

“Hello?” Behind him, Jason frowned, pushing himself up slowly.

“Tim, good, you’re up. I need you for a press release this morning.” Tim groaned, pushing his hair back.

“When?”

“As soon as you get here. Which is hopefully soon.” His shoulders sagged, and before he could respond, Jason reached out, taking the phone from him.

“Bruce.”

“Jason? Put Tim back on-”

“Tim is going back to sleep. He was out all night dealing with your problems. In fact, I think that’s all he’s done all week. Don’t expect him in.”

“Jason, this isn’t funny. We have-”

“Work to do, I know. And Tim can’t do it if he’s so damn exhausted he can’t see straight. He’s staying home today. And in tonight.”

“Jason, I need-”

“I don’t give a shit what you need, Bruce. Tim needs to sleep. Corey needs to see his _dad_.” He glanced over at Tim, who was looking at him with those exhausted eyes- but not stopping him. “I need my family in one piece. So figure it out for yourself. Today he’s mine.” Jason ended the call then, letting the phone drop off the side of the bed. It landed with a gentle thud on the carpet, and Tim shook his head.

“He’s going to kill you.”

“Let him try. What’s to say I won’t come back a second time?” Jason offered up a grin, and Tim laughed, breathy and sleepy, before flopping back down, into the pillows. “I’m a little shocked you didn’t try to stop me.”

Tim shrugged, staring up at Jason. Pretty despite his exhaustion. “Things have to change,” he whispered, “and I can’t put that change off ‘til tomorrow. Or it’ll never happen.” He tipped his head back, sliding his legs along the sheets, a little smile creeping onto his lips. “Now get back down here.”

Jason grinned, leaning down over Tim and placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before nuzzling his hair, his neck.

*

“Waffles aren’t lunch,” Corey said, from where he sat at the table. His coloring book was open, his box of crayons neatly beside him. Jason turned back to him, smiling as he stirred the batter in the bowl he was holding.

“Well, today they are.”

“Why?”

“Because Timmy’s going to be really hungry when he gets up.”

“Why?”

“Because he had a really long day yesterday.”

Corey looked back at his coloring book. “Why?” Jason laughed, leaning over and kissing his hair.

“Because Timmy is a superhero, and he was keeping us all safe.” Corey smiled at that, reaching for his crayons and sliding the ink he was holding back, exchanging it for orange. “Are you excited to get to see Timmy today?” Corey nodded, his little tongue poking out as he concentrated on the coloring.

Jason was plucking the last waffle from the iron from iron when Tim walked out, rubbing one eye as he yawned. His hair was an utter mess, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and one of Jason’s old tshirts hanging too long on him.

“Are you making waffles?” Jason grinned, separating them onto plates for the three of them.

“Thought a late breakfast might be nice. Well, late for you. Lunch for Corey and I.” Tim smiled, walking over- slowly, Jason noticed. His leg must have been bothering him- and leaned up, kissing his cheek.

“What’d I do to deserve you?”

“Something god awful in a past life,” Jason teased, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and kissing his hair. Tim rolled his eyes, before walking to the table, leaning against the back of Corey’s chair.

“Whatcha coloring kiddo?”

“Animals.” Tim looked down at the page, noticed Corey had color a Zebra pink and orange. He smiled.

“Very pretty. Is this the book uncle Dick got you?” Corey nodded, and Tim watched as he settled the orange crayon back in the box, before pulling out a purple and scribbling along the sky.

“Corey colored me a very pretty lion,” Jason said, as he moved towards the fridge. Tim followed, saw it was hanging, taped up towards the top. He had tried to write Jay on it, but the letters were scrawled, the A larger than any of the other two.

“Good job Corey,” Tim said, smiling. “I like it a lot.” Corey glanced up at him, smiling a little.

“Okay, so who wants what on their waffles?”

“Peanut butter!” Corey nearly screamed, throwing his hands up, and Jason huffed a sigh.

“Bananas too?” The boy nodded eagerly, and Tim grinned, pulling out a chair and finally sitting down.

“You know, I think I want the same thing.”

*

One shower later, Tim was sprawled out on the couch, resting content between Jason’s legs, his back to his chest, with Corey settled on his own lap, face pressed into Tim’s chest. He’d fallen asleep about half way through the movie- Brave, which Jason had put on with a look of dread. Tim didn’t want to ask how many times he’d seen it.  
He knew it was Corey’s favorite.

“It is his nap time,” Jason whispered, placing a kiss to Tim’s temple. Tim shifted, grasping the blanket that was around his waist and pulling it up over Corey’s shoulders. The boy squirmed a little, one hand clutching at Tim’s tshirt.

“What if it’s nap time for all of us?” Tim asked, leaning his head back. Jason chuckled, and Tim felt his whole body move with it.

“You’ve barely been up.”

“You’re the one who thinks I need rest.” Jason rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Tim, hands resting on either side of the sleeping boy against his chest. Tim let his eyes fall closed, smiling to himself at the way his body rose and fell with each of Jason’s even breaths.

Smiling because Corey would press his face into his chest from time to time, as if he couldn’t get close enough.

Smiling because _yes, he could fix things._


	138. Worthy (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "I... I just. Ok, Mandi, I know you've done alot today. You went to work. You wrote a full fic about tim and the others. You wrote an excellent ficlet on dick and dami. PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU WITH ALL OF MY BEING WRITE A FIC ON THE "NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HIS SEMEN" THING. PLEASE. I WILL PAY FOR THIS ON WHATEVER YOU HAVE."
> 
> In relation to [this post](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/post/126795897880/im-always-a-slut-for-dick-unintentionally). Apparently this is how my blog will be remembered.
> 
> I caved. I cannot believe I caved.

Damian came with a shout into his pillow, his hands clutching at the sheets beneath it. Behind him, Dick was still thrusting into his abused body, hands clutching his hips and ass so hard he would bruise.

Damian liked the bruises Dick gave him. Little marks. Like he was worth Dick’s time, like Dick didn’t mind anyone knowing who he’d been with. His neck and collar bone boasted a mess of new, fresh bruises from that evening alone.

Dick leaned over Damian’s body, suddenly pulling out of him, and Damian shifted, confused. Dick hadn’t orgasmed yet- he knew. He liked to _feel it_ , the way Dick’s hips pressed against him as he tried so hard to get impossibly deep inside him- that wet heat that filled him, let him know he’d done a good job.

Silent reassurance that he was still worthy of having Dick crawl into his bed with him.

He felt Dick’s slick cock sliding along his hole, between the flesh of his ass, as Dick’s teeth tug into his shoulder blade. He rutted against him, and Damian pushed back, trying to get the right angle so that Dick would slide back into his body, could reach his own orgasm.

But when Dick pulled back, he straightened up on his knees, one hand grabbing Damian’s ass, blunt nails digging into flesh. Damian could hear the sound of his hand working over his cock, Dick’s labored breathing as he was _so close_ -

And then a breathy _fuck_ , as he came. Damian felt it, warm and wet, on the small of his back.

Dick was panting behind him, and Damian could only wonder- had he done something wrong? Was he not worth Dick’s orgasm?

Dick finally lay down next to him, and Damian shifted, onto his side, not looking up at him. Barely a moment passed before Dick was gripping his chin, tilting his face up.

“Dami? What’s wrong?” His cheeks were flushed, eyes glossy from his orgasm, but he still looked concerned. Damian said nothing, trying to glance away. “Hey. Look at me. What’s up?”

Damian licked his lips- swollen, abused from Dick’s teeth, his own mouth. They were beginning to feel sore.

“Did I do something wrong?” he whispered, and Dick furrowed his brow, confused. “You...you’re always inside me when you orgasm.”

Dick blushed more, mouth falling slightly open. But before he could start, Damian continued- voice with a slight waver to it now-

“What did I do wrong? I won’t do it again, Grayson. Am I not good enough? Did I not feel satisfactory?” He glanced down. “Am I not...worthy of your semen-”

Dick tossed his head back, laughter shattering the air around them for a brief moment. He reached up with one hand, covering his mouth as Damian glared at him, as Dick tried to hold his gaze.

“Sorry,” Dick whispered, around another giggle, before he managed, more calmly, “Sorry. It’s just...you’re never going to sound like a teenager are you?”

“I am being serious Grayson.”

“I know. Oh _god_ , I know.” He reached for Damian’s cheek, running his thumb along it. “You were _fine_ , Damian. You always are. I just...” Dick sucked on his lip for a moment, “I...I’ve kinda...wanted to do that...for a while.”

Damian frowned, a little confused. “You...wanted to...?”

Dick sighed. “You need to spend more time on the internet, kid.” He sat up, reaching for Damian and pulling him up to him, kissing the corner of one eye, the rise of a single cheek bone. “I wanted to come on your back, okay?”

Damian screwed his face up. “But, why?”

“I don’t know! It’s hot? You’ve got these little dimples there and just...I don’t know. Okay. I don’t.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, I’m sorry. I should’ve...asked, or brought it up before we started.”

Damian sucked on his tongue. His skin felt sticky, like he was filthy- and he didn’t dislike it.

“Did you enjoy it?” Dick glanced at him, and then nodded, a grin creeping up onto his face.

“Uh, yeah. _Hell yeah_.” He let his hand slide back, to cup the back of Damian’s neck. “I always enjoy sex with you, Damian. Okay? Don’t ever...think I don’t. Jesus I’m going to hell just for how good it is.”

Damian chuckled then, the tension easing from him. He turned, kissed Dick’s arm as his thumb traced little circles into the back of Damian’s neck.

“Perhaps I should try it.” He stared up at Dick through his thick lashes, and the older man swallowed thickly.

“Yeah?” He felt his cock aching, even though he knew there was no way he could get hard again. _Yet_. “Where would you wanna do it?”

Damian sucked on his tongue, eyes glancing down along Dick’s body. He reached out, let his finger tips brush along the contours of his abs.

“Right here.”

Dick shivered. They were going to nee done hell of a shower by the end of the night, he was sure.


	139. His Colors (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [teentitansorgy](http://teentitansorgy.tumblr.com/) asked: "Dick and Damian shopping together and seeing that a store has a nightwing hoodie and dick is super excited but they only have an XXXL and they leave and the next week he sees Damian wearing what has to be the same sweater eating his cereal. (And is amazingly turned on.)"

Dick closed the door of the Manor behind him, as he took a step inside. Before he could even call out to see who was around, Titus was bounding towards him, happily lifting up and settling his paws on Dick’s shoulders.

“Oh jeez, hi boy,” he offered, nearly stumbling back a step. He gave the dog’s shoulders a firm rub before Titus hopped down, happily turning and walking off towards the kitchen. Dick followed, expecting maybe he’d find Damian. He knew the dog liked to stay as close to the teen as possible.

As expected, he found him- however, Dick paused in the doorway, staring.

Damian was settled at the small kitchen table, feet drawn up so he could see the curves of his calves perfectly. He had a bowl of cereal on the table- if Dick bothered to look at the box, he’d realize it was one of the few kept on hand for when he decided to stay the night- the spoon pushed into his mouth. His hood was drawn up- and Dick was fairly sure the hoodie was the only actual clothing he was wearing, aside of his boxer briefs.

Across the back, in bright and bold blue, was his Nightwing V. Dick knew it was across the front, as well, could see the stripe of blue down along the sleeves. Dick had seen that same hoodie a few days prior, while out with Damian. He knew, from the fact that it was way too large on the teen, it was the _exact_ same one.

Because, if he had thought it would’ve fit Damian, he would’ve bought it on the spot.  
Dick knew he had a thing for Damian in his colors. Maybe too much of a thing.

“Grayson,” Damian said, tipping his head back, holding his empty spoon now. Dick continued to stare, at the curve of Damian’s pink lips, the flutter of his eyelashes each time he blinked.

He had no right, being that pretty.

“Grayson,” he said again, straightening up and setting his spoon down, so he could let his legs fall down off the edge of the chair, turning to wrap his arms around the back. “You’re staring.”

“Uh. Yeah.” Dick swallowed. “Sorry. When did you...”

“Buy this?” Damian looked down at the hoodie which he seemed to be nearly drowning in- and somehow that made Dick like it more. “I had Pennyworth take me back into the city yesterday. He seemed...thrilled that I wanted to do something as mundane and purchase clothing.” Dick nodded, and Damian’s lips curved up into a smirk. “Why? Do you like it?”

Oh, Dick could smack this boy.

He damn well _knew_ Damian knew he liked it.

Dick crossed the kitchen in a few strides, gripping the collar of the hoodie and tugging Damian up. The teen didn’t fight him, accepted the kiss that was too rough, too invasive, and all too _perfect_.

He tasted like sugar, to Dick. Like all of Dick’s bad habits. Like all of his _favorite_ habits.

“You know I do,” he breathed against Damian’s mouth, before nipping at his lower lip. He felt the rush of the boy’s breath. “Want proof?”

Damian’s eyes flashed. “ _Always_.”

Dick grinned, jerking the chair back, away from the table. He scooped Damian out of the chair, the teen wrapping his arms around Dick’s neck, pressing into it and mouthing at his pulse. 

He really hoped Bruce had a reason to not be home, for all he planned to do to his boy that morning.


	140. Arranged Marriage AU pt9 (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "arranged marriage au dami gets a little insecure that he's not really tim's type? what happens is up to you :) (bonus points if jason makes a brief appearance for drama)"

Damian was standing a few steps back, watching as Tim was on one knee on the ground, smiling at a girl sitting in a plush chair way too big for her. She looked worse for wear- deep bags under his eyes, hollow cheeks- but she smiled, when Tim smiled. And when he laughed, she smiled more.

They were at one of the rehabilitation centers Tim’s parents had opened around the city over the past few years. Damian knew Tim spent a lot of Tim at them, cycling which one he visited depending on the day, and his busy schedule.

He stood up, giving the girl’s hand a firm squeeze, before he walked up to one of the nurses staffed there, only a step away from Damian.

“Keep an eye on her,” he offered, “I mean, room checks. She needs privacy, but she’s withdrawn. I don’t want to see her do any harm to herself.” The nurse nodded, jotting down a note, and Tim gave her shoulder a squeeze, before taking the last step to Damian. He reached down, tangling their fingers together, and Damian could feel to press of his husband’s wedding band.

Damian offered a small smile at Tim, as they exited the sitting room, heading into the wide hallway.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Tim offered, leaning into Damian a little as they passed the floor’s information desk, heading for the elevator. “I can’t imagine this is how you wanted to spend a day off.”

Damian shrugged a shoulder as they climbed on, alone, and Tim reached for the buttons. “I’m with you, I could count that as a good day.”

He felt stupid, the moment he said it. Cliche, even. But Tim hit the button and turned, smiling and leaning into Damian, finding his mouth and kissing him sweetly. Damian let one hand drift to Tim’s waist, stroke the curve there, as the smaller man muzzled his neck.

“Careful, or I might tell the world just how much of a sweetheart the _big bad Wayne boy_ is.” Damian huffed, and Tim gave his cheek a final kiss before he stepped back, just in time for the elevator to stop and the doors to open. They walked out, right for the center desk, and Tim leaned against it, smiling at the young man there, who handed him a clipboard with a schedule on it.

Damian glanced around. It felt strangely comfortable, despite the fact that it could have easily felt clinical here. The walls were not painted white, but soft colors- this floor boasted tranquil, washed out greens. There weren’t uniforms- the nurse Tim had spoken to earlier had been in jeans. She could have been anyone.

Damian knew that was the point. This specific center was special to Tim, he’d had a bigger part in constructing it than the others. And it had a very different feel.

Damian had never been in the others, he was almost ashamed to admit. He’d never gone with Tim- and he should have, before this. Because doing good for Gotham was important to Tim. Damian was thinking more important to him than it actually was to his parents, who did not make regular visits to these centers, but had their names plastered all over them.

“There’s a group session going on right now,” Tim offered, “I don’t like to interrupt, and it just started. We can head out if you want. I don’t know if you’re hungry?” He passed the schedule back to the young man with a smile, before linking his arm in Damian’s. “But it might be nice to let the world see me hanging off my husband’s arm for a bit.”

Damian smiled. Because there was no way to not.

*

Dinner was light, and the two chose, instead of returning home right away, to take to the Gotham streets, enjoying a walk in the cool evening air. The sun was settling low in the sky, would be gone before the house was up, and Ti was snuggled up to Damian’s arm happily.

“I want to go with you again,” Damian offered, “When you’re not just stopping by. If that’s alright?” Tim glanced up at him, offering up a smile. The sweet kind, that had Damian’s stomach going to knots.

“Trying to impress me?” he teased, and Damian rolled his eyes.

“You care. That’s enough to make me care.” Damian glanced away, after saying it, and Tim squeezed his arm, leaning into him.

“You’re a sweetheart,” he whispered, “And I’d love it baby. It’d mean a lot to me.”

*

Damian raked a hand back through his hair. He’d shed his tie, left it in his car, tried to make himself look more casual as he walked into the building. Not the same center as the day before, he could tell by the color scheme alone. Tim hadn’t had nearly as much of a hand here as he had at the last one.

He walked to the main desk, a woman glancing up at him.

“I’m looking for Tim.” She raised her eyebrows, and Damian drummed his fingers, once, uncomfortably. “I’m his husband.”

“Oh. _Oh_!” She stood up, offering out a hand, which Damian shook out of habit. “Mr. Wayne! Sorry, Tim is on the third floor. There’s a group session he was sitting in on, but it should be almost over. Head on up the elevator, it’s the big room. There’s a desk up there if you need more help.”

“Thank you.” Damian headed for the elevator, hitting the button and pulling his phone out. Maybe he should have called Tim, warned him that he was coming to visit. Maybe it was ridiculous, to just drop in- and it would throw Tim from his work.

Damian had completely second-guessed his decision by the time the elevator doors opened, and he was stepping out. The desk was empty, but there was a set of large doors opened. He walked towards them, leaning against one, peeking in at the large room. There were chairs left in a circle pattern, but no one was sitting. They were standing, talking at this point.

He found Tim, after a moment, hands tucked into his pockets, head cocked slightly, listening to a man talk. Damian could see tattoos along his neck, poking out from where his warn shirt was rolled up at his sleeves. He was fairly sure, at one point when the man laughed- and Tim subsequently giggled- he saw a flash of metal through his tongue.

Damian felt his stomach dropping, slightly. He tried not to dwell on what Tim had told him, recently- about his reasons for being forced into their marriage. About his pension for rough-around-the-edges men. About his old habits of picking up the guys he was trying to help.

He tried, but in that moment, he failed. Because Tim looked at ease, was actually listening. And Damian could picture him, with any number of faceless men, pinned up against a wall, stretching up to meet their hungry mouths, pressing his body flush to their’s. Could see his naked thighs as he was hoisted up onto a counter and utterly ravished, the way his cheeks would flesh and he’d pant, asking for more-

He pushed them down, away. All they did was make him doubt- doubt that he was actually what Tim wanted. Doubt that he could ever be what he desired.

Tim turned, and a moment later, his eyes fell on Damian. He beamed, suddenly, waving and beckoning him over. Damian pushed off the door frame, walking over, his husband excitedly wrapping his arms around him as the other man turned, to speak with someone else.

“Hi!” Tim said, happily. “What are you doing here?”

“My meeting was cancelled. I thought I’d surprise you.” Tim leaned up on his toes, kissing Damian quickly.

“You’re too much,” he whispered, before taking another moment to give Damian a proper kiss.

*

“Is the alarm set?” Tim asked, as Damian settled in behind him, his arm draping over his waist.

“Mhm.” Tim smiled, reaching down, tracing his fingers over Damian’s hand. He’d stopped sleeping in his own room, had taken up a space in Damian’s bed. He hadn’t moved his things in yet- but it was a start, they both knew.

Everything was a step.

Tim shifted, pressing back against Damian more, his ass pressed tightly against Damian’s groin. The younger pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Tim’s neck, and he hummed in response.

“That a hint?” Damian whispered, and Tim grabbed his hand, pushing it lower, down along his navel, until his fingers were pushing past the waistband of his yoga pants.

“Yeah,” Tim whispered, “and so is that.” Damian chuckled, into the back of his neck, making a point to rock his hips forward as his hand delved properly past the clingy fabric, grasping the base of Tim’s cock. He groaned, tipping his head back, as Damian stroked him slowly, teasing him until he was hard in his hand.

Tim reached down, grasping at his pants, shimmying them down over the curves of his hips. Damian released his hold on his cock to help him, until Tim was rolling onto his back, and Damian was tossing them off the bed. He was sitting now, staring down at Tim, whose shirt was pooled up below his ribs, pale legs spread slightly, head tipped gently.

He was gorgeous, and Damian could only think that, now that he saw it, that Tim was somewhere well beyond what he should have ever been able to get. In a league well beyond his.

He leaned down, pressed his mouth to one thigh, trailing kisses slowly up it. Tim hummed his approval, closing his eyes, relaxing into Damian’s touch.

Damian never thought that would happen.

He glanced up, looked at the way Tim’s lashes fanned out against his pale skin, wondered what he saw behind them. Was it Damian? Was Tim fully there, in this moment? Was he elsewhere? Did Damian become someone else, in their bed? Was he nameless, faceless- someone Tim knew, or simply someone he saw in a passing crowd?

Was he the one from before- the one Tim had had to marry Damian, in order to leave behind?

Damian wanted Tim to open his eyes. More than anything, he wanted to see them staring at him, _seeing him_. But as he placed another kiss to his thigh, Tim’s eyes remained closed, mouth slightly open.

Damian exhaled, moved his mouth higher, pressing it to the base of his cock. That earned him a breathy exhale, and then a sound, as he dragged his tongue up Tim’s shaft, so he could press a kiss to the head. A small moan, and then Damian was sucking it into his mouth, his hand stroking up.

Tim arched, hands clutching at the sheets. The sound that left him had Damian wanting to drive his hips into the bed.

But he wanted it to be his name.

He wanted Tim to be there, with him. To be sure of it.

He felt Tim’s hand in his hair as his head moved, fingers stroking back his short hair, tugging when Damian took him deeper now and then. There was a broken god, and Tim was pushing his hips up, eyes opening to glance down, find Damian’s behind his own heavy lashes.

Tim smiled, his cheeks flushing, hand leaving Damian’s hair to run along his cheek, feel the way his mouth stretched as he moved up along his shaft.

“Will you fuck me?” he whispered, and Damian felt his own cock jump, throb with desire. He pulled off his cock, pushing himself up slightly as Tim moved, reached to cup his chin and kiss him, licking at his lips, the slightly salty taste his pre-cum had left in his mouth.

Damian pulled away, only to move towards the night stand. Tim tugged his own shirt off, tossing it away, before he grabbed at Damian’s, pushing it up.

“You’re going to get me all tangled,” Damian teased, as he leaned back, tugging his shirt off. Tim giggled, running his hands up Damian’s back, over his shoulder, pressing his mouth into his neck.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “Maybe I’m a little eager.”

Damian wanted to believe he was, that he _wanted him_.

Tim pulled off Damian’s back, dropping to his hands and knees and reaching for his pajama pants, sliding a hand inside. Damian jumped, slightly, as Tim pulled his cock free, stroking him.

“Lemme make you feel good,” Tim whispered, “While you open me up.”

Damian swallowed, thickly, as he lifted his hips, managing to get his pants off his legs to pool on the floor, under his feet. Tim smiled, partially leaning into his lap as he bent down, sucking his cock into his mouth. Damian moaned, lost himself for a moment because Tim’s mouth was a thing of any wet dream he could have ever had.

He managed, finally, to open the bottle he had grabbed, to slick his fingers up and then reach down Tim’s body, pressing two against his hole. Tim exhaled through his nose, made a little noise, before moaning around his cock as Damian pushed inside.

He still lost his mind, every time he felt hot utterly hot Tim’s body was.

He glanced down as he thrust steadily, watched Tim move, his eyes closed again, those long lashes against his cheeks- the color rising on his cheekbones.

Damian wondered if, in moments like this, Tim compared him to others. Did his mouth fit around Damian the same way it fit around others, did his fingers move in a rhythm just as good-

Did other’s taste better, drive Tim wilder?

His thoughts were broken when Tim pulled off, tossing his head back and moaning. “Another,” he whined, “Please Damian- don’t wanna wait.”

Damian pushed a third in, watched Tim’s swollen lips fall open, his eyes drop closed again in bliss. He twisted them, curled, felt Tim shiver, push back against him. While he worked, Tim reached for the lube, popped it open and drizzled some down onto Damian, then worked it along his shaft with his hand.

Damian hooked his fingers again, heard Tim give a sharp moan, and then he was squirming away from him. Damian pulled his hand back, and Tim climbed onto his lap, reaching behind him and holding Damian’s cock steady.

His hands went to Tim’s waist, to help his balance, as he eased down onto him- watched his eyelids flutter, that pretty blue disappearing, as Tim’s face went almost lax in pleasure.

He was beautiful, and it made Damian hurt.

Tim tipped his head back down, once Damian was fully inside him, leaning in to nuzzle as his neck.

“I’m not going to last long,” Tim admitted, pressing a kiss just below Damian’s ear. He groaned, and Tim giggled. “I take it you don’t mind?”

Damian wanted to believe it was because Tim was actually _excited_ by him.

Tim raised himself up, easing down, setting a rhythm that had his thighs flexing as he continued to lift himself, let himself drive back down. He wrapped his arms loosely around Damian’s shoulders, leaning back, showing off the expanse of his throat as he moaned, as he pulled sounds from Damian.

Each moan, each sound Tim gave up, it made Damian want his name even more, wanted it spilling from Tim’s mouth, wanted to know, for sure, that Tim was there, with him.

He felt ridiculous, but he couldn’t _stop it_.

Tim gave another moan, before he leaned forward, tightened his hold on Damian’s shoulder. As if he was inside Damian’s head, he whispered, “Damian”, lifting his hips faster, driving down harder. His breathing was quickening, and Damian’s hands clutched at his waist.

“Tim-”

“Damian, Dami, hnn, fuck,” Tim shook his head, biting at his lip. Damian felt his belly growing tight, with each breathy gasp of his name, and for a moment, the doubt was gone-

He was there, Tim was _there_ , it was just the two of them-

“Damian!” Tim’s cry broke his thoughts, and he watched his head tip back, the way his pretty lips stayed open as his body held Damian’s tight, as Tim rode out his orgasm.

It was that single cry, the way Damian’s name fell from his mouth, to utterly wanted, that had Damian coming, a moment later. He buried his face in Tim’s neck, inhaled the sweet scent of his skin, as he shuddered into him.

Tim went lax, settling down, leaning into Damian to mouth lazily at his neck, before he giggled. “You,” he breathed, “Are one hell of a lay, darling.”

Damian’s cheeks tinged, and he glanced away, as Tim kissed up under his chin.

“I thought about you all day,” Tim admitted, as his fingers rubbed against Damian’s slightly damp skin, between his shoulder blades. “And when you came to see me,” Tim shivered, pressing right up against Damian’s ear, “I wanted you, right then.”

Damian gasped, and Tim laughed again, breathy and soft, before he carefully pulled himself from Damian’s lap. He stretched out on his back, on the bed, reaching a hand out to Damian.

“Come here.”

Damian stretched out, next to Tim, draping an arm over his waist. The smaller man smiled, took Damian’s hand and lifted it, kissing his palm, his fingers running along his wedding band.

“I think about you a lot,” Tim admitted as he kissed Damian’s wrist. “It’s probably a little ridiculous.” He sucked on his lip for a moment, smiling to himself. “Sometimes I feel like a kid with a bad crush.”

Tim glanced at Damian, with his little smile, and Damian leaned forward, pulling his hand back to cup Tim’s cheek, to kiss him. Tim fell into it, let Damian control the movement of his lips, as Damian felt like every bit of fear he’d had was burning to ash, was being forced up as excitement, into Tim’s mouth.

Tim thought about him. Tim _wanted_ him. Tim…

Tim was choosing to stay in his bed, each night. And maybe he wasn’t Tim’s type, but Damian wasn’t sure it mattered, in that moment.

Damn the self-doubt his grandfather’s game and put into his head. Tim was here, and they were making this work, _because they wanted to_.


	141. Cop/BadBoy AU pt 6 (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Badcop au were dick asks Jason out on a date and Jasons finally the one to be at a loss for words because he didn't expect that at all."

Jason brushed his hand through his hair, his other reaching into his pocket, making sure he had his keys. He hadn’t meant to sleep until mid afternoon- but well, he’d been out all night, a big deal going down. Big enough to pay the rent on this shitty apartment for a few more months, restock his fridge, tuck some away for when he needed it-

He paused, door open, found Dick standing right there, hand lifted as if he had been about to knock. Jason stared at him for a minute, before he grinned.

“Well hello _officer_ ,” he teased, bracing his arm on the doorway and leaning in towards him. “Tell me, here to search the place? Do you have a warrant?” He winked, and Dick’s cheeks flushed, before he reached out, shoving at Jason’s shoulder playfully.

“Funny. I…I just wanted to ask you something.” Jason rolled his eyes. As much as he loved the surprise visit from his little boy toy- or whatever Dick was. Hard to tell, these days.

After all, the last night he’d spent at Jason’s, they hadn’t actually fucked. And Jason hadn’t minded. And that, well…was a first.

But he had places to be. Smaller deals to make. Things he was sure his _cop friend_ didn’t want to hear the details about. Dick was pretty good about never asking.

“Well then shoot, sweetheart. I might be running a bit late.” Dick cleared his throat, shifting for a minute, before-

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

Jason stared at him for a minute, furrowing his brows. “Uhm, alright. I take it you wanna come over then. We can do dinner, not sure what you want but I can pick it up or something-”

“No. No I mean…will you come out to dinner with me?”

Jason gawked, without meaning to.

“I know this place, it’s really quiet and really good and…maybe I can pick you up?” Dick reached back, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jason continued to gawk.

Because he had to be hearing things incorrectly.

Because this almost sounded like…like a date.

“Uh-”

“I’m sorry if it’s sudden,” Dick said, quickly, “And probably…weird. We can forget it. I mean, you need some time without me around and all-”

Jason reached out, grabbing Dick’s tie, tugging him in. He pressed his mouth to his, quickly, kissing whatever he was going to say into silence.

Truth be told, he hadn’t seen the man in about two days. And if he was honest…well, it had been a long two days. Lonely. Something Jason hadn’t expected.

“You talk too much,” Jason teased, pulling back and letting go of his tie. “Tell me you’re not going out in uniform, though.”

Dick smiled at that. A relived smile that had Jason feeling a little bit restless. In a strangely good way.

*

Jason shifted, trying not to stare at Dick. It was…different, to see him out of uniform. Most nights Dick showed up right after his shift ended, and when he left, he was heading in for the next. Seeing him in jeans had thrown Jason a little.

He couldn’t complain though. They did great things for his ass.

Dick was talking, about one of the guys that had been brought in on drug charges that day. He was mid sentence when Jason said, almost quietly, “I know him.” Dick paused, and Jason leaned back in his chair. “You can keep him, if you want. More business for me.”

Dick’s cheeks flushed a little, and he cleared his throat. “They uh. They want him on assault, too.”

Jason shrugged a shoulder. “Wouldn’t doubt it. It gets _heated_ out there.”

Dick glanced away, and Jason wondered what he was doing. They were having a good time. Sure, Dick was talking about work, but what did Jason expect? It took up most of his life. And he seemed to enjoy it.

Why was he going and throwing in Dick’s face what he did? He figured Dick worked pretty hard to over look it. Hell, Dick probably could’ve arrested his ass any time he wanted to- he’d been in Jason’s apartment. If he so much as looked around, he’d have all the evidence he wanted.

And Jason’s dealings weren’t a secret.

Still, didn’t mean he needed to rub it in his face. And now he was quiet, focusing on his food, and Jason realized he was one step from royally murdering the evening. Which, wouldn’t be too off-character for him. He was good at fucking up good things.

Probably how he ended up where he did.

“Hey,” he offered, leaning back against the table, “I’m…sorry. Forget I said anything?” Dick glanced up, and after a moment nodded. Jason reached across the table, took up one of his hands, running his thumb over the knuckles. Dick gave his hand a squeeze, offering up a half smile, and Jason realized he was smiling back.

*

Jason figured they would’ve gone back to his place, after. That was where they always ended up. So when Dick stood awkwardly by the car, rubbing the back of his neck and stammering out, “Do you…wanna come back to my place maybe?”

Jason had never once been to Dick’s. Didn’t even know where he lived, honestly. Truth be told, he would’ve been more comfortable at his own place. Controlled environment. One he knew. No surprises there.

But he found himself in the car, being driven across the city. Watching streets that were…subdued, calm. Too good for him.

Dick pulled into the parking lot of a quaint apartment complex, parking the car and killing the engine. Jason waited until he was climbing out to even undo his seat belt.

This felt…strange.

Inside and up two flights of stairs, and Dick was unlocking a door, leading Jason inside. He flipped the light on and Jason just…stared.

It was neat. Organized. Not that his apartment wasn’t. But well, it was a hellhole, on its best days. The building itself was ancient, and no one gave a shit about it. 

This, this was different.

“Do you want anything?” Dick asked, as he stepped out of his shoes. Jason followed wuit.

“Uh, no… Thanks.” He glanced at the wall as they moved down the hallway. Framed pictures, Dick with his arm around a boy, grinning. The kid looked a little pissed- and Jason paused. Dick looked a few years younger. Still had that pretty smile, those eyes- eyes that had seen less.

Jason felt Dick slide an arm around his waist, moving up behind him.

“Who is he?” Jason asked, without really meaning to. Dick smiled.

“My kid brother. Stepbrother, technically. Cute isn’t he? He’s a little shit, but I love him.” Dick’s hand rested on Jason’s belly, fingers pushing along his tshirt, where it bunched up against the waist of his jeans. “You have any siblings?”

Jason realized Dick had never asked him that. And he had never thought to ask Dick.

“No,” he finally admitted. “It was just me.” For the better. Jason was sure his mom- stepmom, actually- couldn’t have handled more than one of him, especially once she had gotten sick. And lord knew his father hadn’t been any help.

Dick nodded, turning, placing a little kiss to Jason’s neck. He tugged, gently, releasing his waist, and Jason followed Dick down the hallway, which opened up into his living room. More pictures, one settled on the television stand, a few on the coffee table. More on the walls.

Suddenly, Dick wasn’t just _Officer Grayson_. Suddenly Jason realized this man had a whole existence, a whole life, he’d never even considered to ask about.

Dick flopped down on the couch, and Jason sat down next to him, slowly. He shouldn’t have cared. Of course Dick had a family, had a past, had a home. Of course he was all these things Jason hadn’t thought about. Just like Jason knew there was plenty to him Dick didn’t know.

He shouldn’t have needed to know. That wasn’t what this was.

But then, what was it? What was tonight? Up until then, it had felt…casual. Friendly, with a side of fucking. Something Jason could handle.

This had felt like a date.

It still did.

Jason realized he wasn’t talking- and neither was Dick. They were just sitting there, in the dark, not even touching. He tried to grasp at something to say- something not stupid, that wouldn’t lead him down a road like at dinner- but then Dick was moving, grasping the back of the couch with one hand, the other sinking back into Jason’s hair.

His mouth was the next thing Jason registered, moving against his own in that utterly divine way. Dick had a way with kissing him, and while Jason liked the think he had the upper hand, always, that he was the one that always drove this man to a point of weakness- well, he was beginning to realize he might be just a little weak himself.

Dick tugged at his hair, gently, and Jason’s mouth opened with a gasp. Dick’s tongue filled the space, as he moved, until he was climbing into Jason’s lap, straddling him, rocking down against him- and ah, this Jason knew. Something physical, the perfect rhythm their bodies found together.

No emotions here.

No pasts, no other lives, no families.

Dick pulled back, his hand moving from Jason’s hair to cup his cheek, thumb stroking along it. “Hey? You in there?”

Jason realized his hands were still firmly at his sides. He’d kissed Dick back, but he hadn’t touched.

Was he? Was he in there? Jason felt like he didn’t know where he was.

“Yeah. Sorry.” He sighed, and Dick settled back on his thighs.

“We can slow down,” he offered, and Jason snorted.

“Please. Slow isn’t something we know.” Dick chuckled at that, pulling his hands down, to run over Jason’s chest.

“But we can learn. What are you thinking?”

The question Jason didn’t want to get. Didn’t want to answer. Wasn’t sure he could. There was always something so unnerving about being asked what he was thinking. Like his mind was his own private slice of time, space. The one place he didn’t need to explain the comings and goings of.

“What is this?” he blurted out instead. Dick quirked up an eyebrow, and Jason knew he couldn’t get around it now. “Tonight. We don’t…do these things.”

_We fuck, and you go about your life, I go about mine._

Dick blushed, glancing down at his hands, as they smoothed Jason’s tshirt over his chest. “We don’t,” Dick agreed, “But we…could.” He glanced back up, his eyes nervous, pupils bigger than they should have been. “I thought it might be nice…like a date.”

Jason stared at him, before he shook his head. “Trust me kid, you don’t wanna date me.” Because it was the truth. Jason was bad news, he had been for as long as he could remember. Bad news that kept missing being the headline. Eventually, luck would run out. He knew. Eventually someone would decide to get the charges to stick. Get him off the streets. He’d been in cells before, but never very long. Someday though, he’d spend the rest of his life in one.

Or in a ditch. Either or, he was sure.

“Why not?” Dick almost pouted, for a moment. “I like you. A lot. And yeah, maybe I shouldn’t. But I don’t think I really give a damn about your business dealings.” Dick shrugged a shoulder. “Gotham’s a mess, and if bedding down with a drug dealer is my only discrepancy, then fuck I’m doing a damn good job.”

Jason opened his mouth, closed it again. Tried to think. Tried to come up with the reasons he didn’t need this, didn’t need something tying him down. Reasons to give Dick as to why this couldn’t happen- that what they had was good.

He couldn’t come up with any.

Because he didn’t want to.

“I’m not the kind of guy you can bring home to mom and dad,” Jason offered up, and Dick snorted.

“You don’t know my family.” Jason grinned at that, and Dick leaned in, close to his mouth. “I mean it, Jason. I like you. And if I’m reading this wrong, tell me. Otherwise- what’s the harm?”

What’s the harm in dating a cop? That list was endless. But what’s the harm in dating Dick?

Heart ache. Utter, self-shattering heart ache. Because it wouldn’t last. Jason knew. He’d seen any relationship he tried in the past crash and burn- had given up, a long time ago. And he knew Dick liking him wouldn’t make up for the fact that he was the very type of person Dick was supposed to be clearing off the streets. Eventually, they would have to face that.

But would whatever little sliver of heaven Jason got, before it all crashed and burned- would it be worth the end result?

“Yeah,” he whispered, finally lifting an arm and wrapping it around Dick’s shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. “What’s the harm?”

His life. But Jason wasn’t sure he had much value for that, at this point.


	142. Single Dad AU pt14 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [batsandfireworks](http://batsandfireworks.tumblr.com/) asked: "Okay, I know prompts are closed so not expecting anything. But I just need to talk about the single dad au. They both go out somewhere fancy and Dick all dressed up looking flawless as usual. Bruce would be so turned on the entire night just watching him. But he notices everyone else giving Dickie 'those looks' (because honestly, who wouldn't?) Bruce is super protective and jealous because of course he is. Anyway later that night he would go into full on Dom!bruce mode. And Dick would love it."

Dick over his glass, trying to not laugh as Bruce finished his story, smiling at him. _Only him_. He’d been looking at Dick the entire night with those eyes, with a look that said he didn’t see a single other person. It left Dick feeling dizzy.

Dick set his glass down, fiddling with his tie instead. It felt strange to be dressed up- and in a full suit, which Dick hadn’t worn in…he couldn’t remember. The fact was worse that it was new, that Bruce had bought it, and Dick hadn’t been able to refuse. Oh, he’d tried. Had been silenced by a string of kisses that left him forgetting why he had even had a problem with it.

He felt strange, being given things. And, with Bruce, _things_ were never cheap. It still messed with Dick’s mind, at times. The difference between them, socially. Not that it seemed Bruce even saw it.

He had just picked his fork up when the waiter returned, smiling at them and asking if there was anything else he could get them. Dick smiled and let Bruce talk- he was just out of his element here. He wasn’t sure he and Barbara had really gone anywhere to eat where he’d needed a suit. And lord knew after her there wasn’t anyone.

Until now.

The waiter nodded when Bruce was done speaking, turning and smiling at Dick. He was young, younger than Dick even, and his hazel eyes slid over Dick’s face and neck, to his chest in a way that felt obscene. It was over before Dick could truly register it had happened, but he felt color trying to creep to his cheeks. He’d never gotten used to being checked out.

A glance at Bruce told him he’d noticed.

“So are you mine all night?” Dick asked, trying to ignore it. “Or is there business in the morning?”

Bruce offered him a smile. “There was a meeting. I had it moved until the afternoon.”

Dick grinned over that. “Planning for something to happen?” His own voice echoed in his head, from what felt like it was yesterday and yet forever ago, when he’d finally acknowledged this relationship with Bruce. When he’d given into desire, when he’d given Bruce the truth of his own train wreck of a romance-past.

“I was hoping,” he offered, that smile charming and obscene and causing Dick to shiver, “Not planning.”

Dick could have laughed. There was really no need for hope on Bruce’s part. Dick couldn’t think of somewhere he’d rather spend his night than in Bruce’s bed.

*

Bruce kept his arm around Dick’s waist as they walked to his car. The autumn air was only slightly chilled, a final warm spell. Dick wouldn’t mind seeing it go. It was causing the leaves to hang onto the trees longer than usual. He still wanted to take Damian out into them, to see the boy play in them. He had fond memories of that himself.

They reached Bruce’s car when Dick heard it, the shutter of a camera. He glanced past Bruce, saw a blonde standing within the thinning crowds, staring right at them.

Dick frowned. He’d seen her plenty since her first article. It seemed Gotham suddenly had a taste for him, and she couldn’t get enough. There had been pictures of Dick alone, Dick with Bruce, Bruce and Damian, and even just Damian. Those had been exceptionally harsh, always flaunting lines like _who is this man that Bruce Wayne trusts his child with so much?_ that made Dick’s blood boil.

There had been more of simply Bruce and Damian, as well. Dick knew Bruce was frustrated, had wanted to keep Damian’s life private as much as possible- nor had he wanted Dick to be dragged down by this. But it seemed it was just something they were going to have to get used to, now.

Bruce opened Dick’s door. “Just ignore her,” he whispered, “If we lash out, she’ll just have a better story to write.”

Dick knew Bruce was right. Silently, he climbed into the car, allowing Bruce to close the door for him as well.

*

“A- _ah_!” Dick cried, loudly, head tipping back as Bruce worked between his thighs, mouth wrapped around his cock, swallowing him down as his hands rubbed his thighs. Dick bit his lips, trying to keep from thrusting up into that wet heat, over Bruce’s tongue- which felt as if it was doing simply impossible things along the underside of his cock. “Bruce, Bruce, shit.” His toes curled in the sheets.

He hadn’t expected Bruce’s mouth around him. The man had already had his fingers inside him, left Dick slick and waiting. Already had him worked up to a point where it was nearly too much.

“C-areful,” Dick breathed, “I-I might…” As if in response, Bruce swallowed him deeper, glancing up at him. Dick’s mouth went slack, staring at the way his lips were stretched around him, shivering over the fact that Bruce groaned, before letting his eyes fall shut, tongue making a point to press firmly just under the head of his cock with each rise of his head.

Dick swallowed, his belly going tight. He couldn’t, not yet- they hadn’t even-

He reached down, sinking a hand into Bruce’s short, dark hair, hips pushing up as he came, an obscene moan falling from his lips. He held Bruce still as he came over his tongue, felt the man swallowing around him- whined over that. When Bruce pulled off, when Dick’s hand went limp, fell from his hair, he surged up, kissed Dick’s slack mouth, pressed his tongue beyond his lips. He tasted bitter and Dick shuddered, spreading his thighs as Bruce shifted between them.

He was almost embarrassed over how much he enjoyed kissing Bruce, after the man had sucked him off.

Brace grabbed his thighs, breaking the kiss and jerking them, so Dick was forced to fall onto his back. His legs slid along Bruce’s hips, and without warning the man was pushing inside his slack body. Dick groaned, eyes rolling- his nerves jumping to life, when they should be spent.

Bruce’s thrusts were rough, powerful- the kind that had Dick jostling a few inches each time, had his neck aching as he tried to arch, mouth going wide.

“You’re,” he started, lost his words as an easily aimed thrust hit his prostate, and he let a cry rip from his throat. Somewhere, in his subconscious, he might be worried about the noise he was making. “Intent,” Dick managed out, as Bruce leaned over him, hands braced in the pillows as he mouthed at his neck. Dick tipped his head back, his body clenching around Bruce once as his teeth scraped along his neck.

He shouldn’t be able to come again, he was sure.

But god, he felt so close already.

“What can I,” Bruce paused, exhaling, as Dick purposefully clenched around him, offering a smirk as he ran his hands up along his chest, between them. “-I say? Maybe I’m a little possessive.”

Dick thought back to the waiter giving him looks. In fact, he’d gotten a lot of looks tonight. He’d barely noticed- it hadn’t crossed his mind that Bruce would.

His smirk grew. He kind of liked it.

“Really?” he breathed. “I think I like it.” Dick wrapped his legs around Bruce’s waist, squeezing. “Show me _how_ possessive.”

Bruce pushed himself up, so he was bent over Dick’s body. One hand closed around his throat, holding Dick down, tight enough that he could feel the curl of each finger, the bend of each joint- but he could still breathe. Dick gasped.

“Own me,” he growled, as Bruce’s cock drove into him, had him nearly seeing stars. He hissed, pleased, as the older man’s hand moved behind his neck, tugging him up, bending him awkwardly. Dick didn’t care. He grabbed at Bruce’s shoulder, dug blunt nails in, craned his neck until he could kiss him, tug at Bruce’s lip with his teeth.

Bruce groaned, his thrusts becoming unsteady, rhythm-less, until he was rutting into Dick, who didn’t care. Didn’t care because he felt abused in the sweetest way, roughed up and yet so cared for.

When he came a second time, he was screaming into Bruce’s neck, wordless, with his lover following a moment later.

When they finally untangled, Dick lay on his back, panting, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure he could feel his limbs, even as his toes curled in the sheets, his body constantly humming still.

“That was,” he started, before licking his lips. “Wow.” Next to him, Bruce rolled onto his side.

“It wasn’t too rough?” Dick turned his head, trying to smile. He wasn’t sure he could even control the way his mouth twisted.

“Too rough? Chris Bruce, I think you could just fuck me up, and I’d be happy.” He laughed at that, reaching an arm over Dick’s ribs, leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek, then his temple. “Get possessive more often. I think I like it.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, settling in against Dick, who didn’t protest the cuddles. If anything, it was perfect after the feeling of that hand around his neck.

Add that to the category of things he didn’t know he was into.

Dick closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, as Bruce continued to leave soft kisses on his skin. His neck, shoulder, even his hair. Eyes still closed, he turned his head, and Bruce kissed his lips, softly, sweetly.

It was the perfect ending to a great evening, as far as Dick was concerned.

*

“Next time, you and me kiddo,” Dick said, as he lifted Damian up, holding him against his hip. “Okay? I won’t let daddy keep me the whole time.”

Damian was frowning- rather upset that Dick was leaving, that they had gotten to have breakfast together- as a _family_ , Dick could only think, his belly going to butterflies over it- but that was it. Bur Dick knew Bruce had a meeting, and he had more of a job hunt lined up for that afternoon.

“Promise?” Damian said, and Dick nodded, kissing his forehead.

“Cross my heart, little D.” The boy smiled then, leaning in and wrapping his little arms up around Dick’s neck. He held him, squeezing, and Damian didn’t loosen his grip, until Bruce was walking over, letting go of his tie that he was straightening, and taking him, giving him a hug and a big kiss to his cheek. The toddler laughed, loudly, before he squirmed, back down to the floor, gathering up the large, blue plush bat he had dropped when Dick picked him up.

It was flat, with long wings, unlike the round, fat original toy. Dick had won it for him, after his ferris wheel incident with Jason, and Damian had taken to sleeping with both toys. It seemed he was only dragging this one around- and not both- because the original bat needed _emergency surgery with Dr. Alfred_.

*

Bruce pulled up to the curb, killing the engine as Dick noticed Jason and Tim, walking out of the apartment complex. He sighed.

“So much for a private goodbye.”

Bruce chuckled leaning over to kiss his cheek, before both climbed out, Bruce offering a wave to the other two. Jason grinned, grabbed Tim by his wrist and dragged him over.

“Hey love birds,” he offered, with a grin, “date night go well?”

“Better than well,” Dick offered, wrapping his arms around one of Bruce’s and leaning into him. “You two have a good night?”

“Jason helped me study,” Tim offered, smiling sweetly. Dick returned it. He really liked the kid- and he still had no idea how Jason had found someone like him.

Then again, he had no idea what he’d done to get his stars to align right and throw Bruce Wayne into his life.

“Yeah, it was thrilling,” Jason offered sarcastically, popping a cigarette between his lips. He took a moment to light it, taking a long drag. He looked as if he was about to say something, when his words were cut off by the sound of a camera’s shutter.

Dick frowned, glancing towards the sound. He gritted his teeth, glaring angrily at the blonde who had the audacity to settle her camera down, around her neck, and _smile_ at him.

Just one damn day, was all he was asking. At least Damian wasn’t out for this.

“This the chick that’s been following you?” Jason asked, glancing at her as a few people walked by. Dick sighed, nodding, as Bruce tried to block him from the camera.

“Yeah, endlessly for-”

“Stephanie?” It was Tim, turning, staring at the blonde. She had lifted her camera again, but dropped it, the moment he spoke, and she got a look at his face.

“You know her?” Dick asked, and Tim nodded, as she closed the gap.

“Well, I’ll be damned Tim, so this is your crowd now?” She glanced from him, towards Bruce and Dick, offering up a smile. It might have been sweet if Dick wasn’t annoyed by her very presence. “What are the odds either of you want to say anything to me? Or am I just writing a story on these pictures?”

“Miss Brown, if you have questions, they can be submitted to the PR department at Wayne Enterprises.” She rolled her eyes.

“That’s what I expected, _Mr. Wayne_.” She turned back to Tim, her smile turning a bit playful. “Timmy, tell your friends I just wanna play nice, will you? I’m just doing my job. At least I have one.” She glanced at Dick, who felt his patience suddenly growing so thin it might snap. Then back at Tim, and at Jason, who simply glared at her as he smoked. 

Tim moved, the moment her eyes fell on Jason, positioning himself between the two.

“Steph, you probably should go.”

“And we should probably catch up sometime Tim. Call me? I know you still have my number.” She gave the group a final glance, before turning, walking off towards the crowds at the corner, waiting to cross the street.

As soon as she was gone, Dick- along with Bruce and Jason- turned to Tim, staring at him. He flushed, trying to look away- and having nowhere to avert his eyes.

“Tim?” Dick whispered, as the youngest sighed, raking a hand back through his hair.

“Yeah, I know her. She uh.” He paused, swallowed. “She’s sort of my ex.”

Dick felt his stomach tightening, as he watched Jason’s upper lip twitch for a moment, before he tossed his cigarette down. _Oh hell_.


	143. Trade You (JaySteph)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [thewonderboys](http://thewonderboys.tumblr.com/) posted: PSA: Give me more JaySteph stuff this is not a drill
> 
> Wasn't a prompt to me, but I couldn't resist writing a _little_ something :3

“Jason, I swear, I will put you back in the ground!” Stephanie reached up above her head, Jason grinning, lifting her coffee cup higher, well above his.

“You could ask nicely,” he teased, and she huffed, her blonde hair in a wild knot at the side of her neck, tussled from sleep.

“I’ll be nice after I’ve woken up. Which I need that coffee for.”

“It’s three in the afternoon,” Jason pointed out, and Stephanie rolled her eyes.

“Justice never sleeps.”

“Get that one from Batman?” She said nothing, reaching out, jumping again- before gripping at Jason’s shoulder, trying to use his body as leverage to reach higher. “Woah, I like it when you climb me like a tree Steph but maybe give a guy a little warning?” Stephanie huffed, but smiled, somewhat, at Jason’s grin. “Trade you.”

“For what?”

“A good morning kiss?”

Her smile grew. “You just said it’s three in the afternoon.”

“Yeah well, it’s morning to you.” Stephanie shook her head, before she leaned up, kissing his cheek. Jason’s smile softened, and he lowered her cup, handing it to her. Stephanie took it happily, taking a sip and sighing.

“You had them make it just right,” she whispered, fingers curling around the cardboard cup holder.

“Believe it or not, I do pay attention.” She smiled sweetly up at him, lean in again.

“I know.”

This time when she kissed him, he could taste the coffee on her lips.


	144. A Thirsty Bird (Tim & DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [teentitansorgy](http://teentitansorgy.tumblr.com/) asked: "someone other than alfred comes to wake dami up in the morning and he's just wearing his boxers and they see weird symmetrical bruises all down his sides so they're like ??? and they walk closer and its patterns made of overlapping hickies. and upon closer inspection the boxers Damian is wearing are dick's."

”Damian, c’mon,” Tim muttered, rapping his knuckles against his door again. Still no response. With a sigh, he pushed it open. “Look, Alfred is holding breakfast on you.”

Tim slipped into the room, wrapping his arms around himself. It was _cold_. A quick glance around the room revealed Damian’s window was wide open. Tim frowned.

It was way too cold at night to be leaving that open.

He padded across the room in his socked feet, finding Damian still asleep, wrapped up in his blankets. Odd, because Damian was never one to sleep through someone walking into his room. His hearing was too good, and he was too damn tense for that.

Tim reached for the blanket, tugging it down slightly. “C’mon,” he whispered, not wanting to speak up. Not wanting to startle Damian. He didn’t need the teen attacking him, before he’d even been allowed to have his coffee. “Damian-”

The name broke off when Tim noticed a bruise, along Damian’s collar bone- and one on his neck, as well. Small, but dark, fresh. Tim frowned. Damian hadn’t been on patrol last night, Tim had- which was one reason it was weird he was still sleeping- so he shouldn’t have been bruised.

He tugged the blanket down more, revealing a scattering of them along his belly, the hollow of his ribs, along his sides. Tim started counter, then promptly stopped because it was ridiculous that he could even got past one hand.

“Damian,” he said, louder now- concerned. “Wake up.”

Damian stirred, stretching out as his eyes cracked open. He frowned. “Drake?”

“Fuck kid, what happened to you?” Damian glanced down his body, then back up at Tim, scowling.

“What are you doing in my room?”

“Waking you the hell up, because I want to eat breakfast. Alfred won’t let me until you’re up too.” He tugged the blanket further, tossing it down his legs- noticing a particularly ugly bruise on the jut of his hip bones. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Damian said nothing, but a tinge of color rose to his cheeks. Tim furrowed his brow, glancing down again-

Wait. Damian definitely didn’t own plaid boxers. He was more of a basic color sort of guy. Tim knew, because it seemed that pants were a hard concept for Damian to grasp at times.

In fact, Tim felt like he’d seen that same pair of boxers- which were way shorter than they should of been- recently. Hadn’t he thought that same thought-

Because they had been on Dick, and Tim _hadn’t needed those thighs taunting him in the morning when he wasn’t ready for the world_.

And suddenly, the open window made sense.

“Oh god,” Tim huffed, turning and throwing his hands up. “I don’t want to know. I don’t. Put some pants on Damian, and a fucking turtle neck. You look like a lion mauled you.”

Damian sat up, smirking. “Just a very thirsty bird,” he called, as Tim got to the door. He paused, grimacing, before stepping into the hallway.

He hated that he always had to be the one to know everything about the rest of the family.


	145. Clean You Up (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [myrandomnesslife](http://myrandomnesslife.tumblr.com/) asked: "dick growing up and realizing once he's a teenager that he wants bruce and sees him in more than a familial way and it sucks, because he's scared that bruce will never feel the same way, so he pines and tries to be as close to bruce as he can get without hurting their relationship"

Dick grimaced, as his cape fluttered to the ground. His legs ached, scraped and bloodied- but worse was his shoulder, as he began to peel the top of his suit off. He hissed, the material sticking to bloody skin.

“Master Richard,” Alfred said, rather alarmed, and Dick offered him a pained half smile.

“No worries Alfred. I’ll-” he hissed as the material fully pulled away, “I’ll be just fine.”

“We need to get that cleaned and bandaged up, right away.”

Dick didn’t argue, stepping over the pile that was his yellow cape, and making his way towards the metal table Alfred stood by, where he was settling fresh bandages on a wheeled tray.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Dick paused, glancing behind him. Alfred had glanced up as well, as Bruce walked in from the shadows, pulling his cowl back. Dick glanced away from him, a mix of embarrassment over the fact that he had been so thoroughly beaten up- and the fact that Bruce’s face, right after his cowl was pulled back, was always a thing that left his heart skipping a beat.

Like the big bad bat was turning into this man who had these hands that kept Dick up at night, if he didn’t shut his mind down entirely. Hands that Dick missed, from when he was a kid, and he got away with physical contact. Before it could mean anything.

Alfred glanced at Dick’s shoulder, before frowning. “It does not appear to need stitches, so if you insist.”

“Would you make us some tea?” Bruce asked, pulling his gauntlets off and setting them aside. 

“Of course, sir.” Alfred turned, leaving them, and Bruce motioned for Dick to come closer. He did, on shaky legs, and Bruce pressed two fingers to his jawline, tipping his face away, the other hand holding his shoulder still.

“Looks like a nasty abrasion, some small incisions.”

“Got dragged on the pavement,” Dick admitted, glancing down at the top of his suit, which still clung to most of his body The portion that would’ve rested over his shoulder was a torn mess.

“Take that off, so I can clean you up.”

Dick swallowed. He didn’t know how to say no. How did he ask for Alfred back? At least with Alfred it’d be nothing more than his wound being cleaned. With Bruce, it’d be those strong hands holding him still, calloused fingers working over his darker, scared skin-

Dick lost his breath, and realized he hadn’t moved. That Bruce was looking at him. He blushed, slightly, and fought with the upper portion of his suit, until he was tossing it away, leaving him in his boots, those little green shorts.

For all the good it did him, he may as well have been naked.

 _No, no that would be worse_.

Dick hopped up onto the table, and was relieved to see Bruce stretch a pair of latex gloves over his hands. At least there’d be that barrier.

He winced while Bruce cleaned the wound, the dried blood leaving the gauze a rusty pink. It took some time, and precision with a very small set of tweezers, to remove the tiny bits of gravel. Dick tried not to wince, to not think about it, or anything.

But it was hard.

Because they were alone. And Bruce was leaning so close, and he smelled like the city, like Batman, and Dick just wanted those hands to grab his waist, to pull him down onto his lap. To run along his back as he squirmed, as he kissed that jawline, the serious line of his mouth-

Dick gasped, as Bruce dug out the last piece of debris. Another pass of the alcohol covered gauze, and Bruce was taping a fresh bandage on him.

“Should I be worried,” Bruce asked, glancing down at Dick’s legs. The scraps were broken up by blooming bruises. There was one, blooming along his ankle. Honestly, Dick didn’t feel it, he had walked fine.

But he wasn’t a saint, and he knew an opportunity when he saw it.

“Pretty sore,” he lied, as Bruce pulled his latex gloves off. “Think I should stay off it for a day or two?”

Bruce stood up, stepping back and guiding Dick’s leg up, his bare hands running along them, so he could examine the bruise. Dick sucked on his lower lip, told himself to get it together. The shorts didn’t hide much- and he had never been so happy to be wearing a cup in his life.

“Probably for the best,” Bruce offered, gently guiding Dick’s leg down. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Dick tried not to whimper over that.

He expected Bruce to let him lean on him. At least then he’d get to press up against his side, feel the heat radiating from beneath the suit. What he didn’t except was Bruce to scoop him up off the table, to hold him in his arms as if he hadn’t grown an inch or a pound in the years he’d lived with him.

Out of instinct, Dick reached out, wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling himself in closer. When he realized, a moment later, what he’d done he fully expected Bruce to tell him to let go, to relax.

He didn’t. He gave him a gentle squeeze, held him firmly against his chest. Dick hesitated, before letting his head fall against his shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment as Bruce began to walk across the cave.

He shouldn’t indulge like this, he knew. He risked everything, giving himself away. Risked losing Bruce, if the man knew exactly how Dick was feeling. But in the moment, it was too much a temptation. Dick was’t sure of the last time Bruce had carried him-

But he felt so secure, in those arms.

He felt like the world was right. Like he never wanted to leave.


	146. Gone (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Imagine Dick and Damian have been together for a couple of years now, but something is off. When Damian isn't around, Dick has a problem remembering exactly what Damian looks like. Then it's all revealed that Damian doesn't exist, has never existed, and was just a figment of Dick's imagination so he could cope with Jason's death (who is still dead) and Dick is like "he's real, Jason's alive, I swear" but no one believes him and Tim can't look when Bruce is forced to sedate Dick again."

“-tt- Grayson, you’re going to make a mess.” Dick rolled his eyes, even as Damian became nothing but movement, leaving the small sitting room, where Dick sat nursing a cup of tea. He sighed, taking a sip, thinking that when the teen came back, he’d remind him he could very well hold a damn tea cup and not spill it, thank you very much.

He wasn’t an animal.

But minutes passed, and Damian didn’t return. Dick leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment, but the teen was faceless there. Had been, recently. As if Dick’s mind couldn’t be bothered to gather the energy to finish his image. Were his eyes blue- or green?

“Dick?”

Dick opened his eyes, glanced in the doorway. Bruce and Tim stood there, Tim’s hands working nervously at the bottom of his hoodie. He’d spoken Dick’s name as if Dick might not open his eyes.

Dick blinked, realized the lighting in the room had changed. Everything was bathed in pinks, oranges. Sunset.

Hadn’t it just been late morning?

“Where’s Damian?” he asked, setting his tea cup aside. Had he bothered to take a sip, he’d know it was cold.

Tim and Bruce glanced at each other, and Bruce shifted a small case in his hands. Old, faded brown leather.

“Dick,” Tim started again, “We’ve…been over this. Did you see Damian today?”

“Of course.” He frowned. “We were having tea. You know he loves it, and he was going to sketch. He left- god it had to be a few minutes ago. I must have not realized how late we were starting, that’s all.”

Tim licked his lips, as Bruce moved forward, walking over to Dick.

“Dick,” he said, his voice firm, deep, “There’s no one named Damian here. You know that.”

Dick frowned. “Bruce, that’s cruel. Look, I know you two don’t always get along, but he’d your son. You can’t just pretend he doesn’t exist! Tim, tell him he’s crazy.” He glanced over at TIm, who looked away, the color draining from his face. “Oh for fuck’s sake, c’mon Tim. You guys don’t always get along, but don’t be an ass.” Dick huffed. “You guys call Jason an ass, but you’re worse than him.”

Bruce’s breath hitched, and he leaned down pressing a hand to Dick’s shoulder, pushing him back further in the chair.

“Jason is dead,” he said, and this time, his voice wasn’t so firm.

“Uh, yeah. Once. Not _now_.” Dick shook his head. “He came back.”

“He never came back, Dick,” Tim offered finally taking a few steps closer. “You can’t just…come back. Jason’s been dead for years.”

“This isn’t funny,” Dick said, moving to stand up. Bruce pushed him back down by his shoulder, and Dick growled. “Let. Me. Go.”

“You’re not well, Dick,” Bruce said, his voice pained. “This is for your own good.” The small case he’d been holding as set aside, on an arm of the chair flipped open. From it Bruce pulled a syringe.

Dick’s eyes went wide.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Dick yelled now, as Bruce pressed a knee up between his thighs, pinning him as he pulled back to tap the syringe, squirt a bit of liquid out. Dick moved to hit him, but Bruce grabbed his wrist, slammed his arm down, holding it steady as he plunged the needle in, empty the content into Dick’s arm. “No,” Dick screamed, thrashing as the empty syringe fell away. “No. Call Jason…he’ll…he knows…you’re crazy…Damian…” Dick’s body began to relax. “Need Damian. He’ll…he’ll come.” His head dropped back, eyes going wide, glossy, as his mouth moved slower, less, his words becoming a whisper. “Damian…he knows…he’s here…always here…”

Tim bit his lip to the point of tasting blood, and looked away, his stomach churning. He couldn’t handle seeing Dick like this. And it was getting worse. His slips from reality were all too frequent now, the need for heavy sedation too often.

Tim didn’t want to think that the man had completely lost his mind- but the years of dealing with Jason’s death, it had crept upon him. Silently, until it manifested, in this Damian. In someone that admired Dick, that looked at him like he was the absolute world.

Like Jason, as Robin, used to.

Tim watched Bruce move off of Dick’s limp body, and knew they couldn’t go on like this.

Knew that, despite all his hope, Dick was gone


	147. In the Dark (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nyadami](http://nyadami.tumblr.com/) asked: "Every once in awhile I get silly ideas&come to u 

“That isn’t even realistic,” Damian said through a scowl, “that is far too much blood for that wound. And look at the _color_!” He huffed, eyes still glued to the television, as from the darkness a creature tore at another victim, beginning to pull their insides up through their belly. “Oh please.”

He felt shifting, and suddenly Dick’s arms were around his waist, the older man having slid done on the couch, so the blanket was pulled up to his chin. Damian quirked up an eyebrow.

“Grayson?”

Dick said nothing, and when Damian glanced back at the television, the creature was pulling back into the shadows again, leaving a trail of blood behind- too bright, too orange, if he were to comment.

Dick flinched.

“Grayson, are you…scared?” Dick still didn’t answer. But a moment later when there was a scream from the movie, his body jerked, and he pressed his face into Damian’s chest.

The teen stared down at him, arms at his sides, unsure for a moment what to do.

“It’s just a movie,” he finally said, “You’re being ridiculous.” Dick glanced up, then away, and moved to pull himself from Damian.

The look in his eyes made Damian instantly regret saying anything.

“But…I could see how it could be unnerving,” he added, wrapping an arm around Dick, under the blanket, to keep him against his chest. “You know. With our work, we can…extrapolate how things like this could happen.”

“Yeah,” Dick mumbled, relaxing. Sounding relieved. Damian reached up, to stroke back his hair with his other hand.

“Don’t worry Grayson,” he whispered, giving him a gentle squeeze, “I’ll fight off whatever’s in the dark.”


	148. Beloved (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "But imagine Dami having a MASSIVE crush on Dick and one day everyone is eating together or something so it's really chaotic and Dick isn't responding and so he shouts "BELOVED YOU MUST LOOK AT ME" ((or something idk)) and the entire family just turns and stares and Dick is confused (("what does this mean why would he" "shh dickie, there's drama")) Dami is absolutely horrified and Bruce is torn between /this is my life/ and /FUCK NO/"
> 
> I kind of forgot about the Bruce part oops. I turned this into a "three times Damian called Dick beloved and the one time he returned it" sort of deal.

“Grayson,” Damian called, his words drowned out by Jason’s laugh as the older man grinned, elbowing Stephanie, who was sitting next to him. The blonde shoved him, shouting that whatever asinine story he was telling was fake.

Damian didn’t care.

“Grayson,” he tried again, but the man in question, at the other end of the table, was leaning over, clamping a hand on Jason’s shoulder as he continued to talk.

Damian huffed. Meals weren’t too bad, at the Manor, when it was just he and Bruce, and most often Cassandra. But add in the rest of the family, or even just a few of them, and it was utter chaos.

“Beloved would you listen for just a moment!” Damian’s voice had risen to a point louder than even Jason’s laugh, and the conversation at the table ceased. Everyone turned, staring at Damian, who, after a moment, realized what he had said.

His cheeks flushed.

“Uhm,” Dick started, confused, vaguely aware that Damian was looking at _him_ now.

“Did you just call him beloved?” Stephanie asked, and Damian glared at her.

“Silence, Brown.”

“ _You did_!”

Damian shoved himself back from the table, storming from the room and heading for his bedroom as quickly as he could without running. To run would let the family see just how severe a slip it was.

*

“C’mon kid, give it all you’ve got.” Dick was grinning as he spoke, legs spread far apart on the mat, waiting for Damian. The teen eyed him, before he charged at him, allowed Dick to take the force of his weight head on, shoulder to chest. He wrapped his arms around his waist, letting himself fall down entirely and drag Dick with him.

Dick hit the mat, hard, with a groan, his head tipping back. Damian slid up along his body, straddling him and planting his hands firmly on his shoulders.

“Going to try and get me off, Grayson?”

The older man chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, that was a nice charge.” He pushed himself up on his elbows as Damian eased back. “You gonna move?”

Damian sucked on his tongue, meaning his remark to come off as sarcastic. Instead, he managed, “I rather like this position, beloved,” as he let himself glance down at Dick for a moment too long.

Dick’s eyebrows rose, and Damian realized, a moment later, what he’d said. As quickly as he could, he pushed himself off Dick’s body, standing and taking two steps back.

“I’m- I’m going to shower,” he said, needing suddenly to be as far away from Dick as possible. Without another word he darted past him, running through the cave.

Dick stayed there another moment, before he let himself flop back fully onto his back to stare up towards the ceiling.

_Going to try and get me off, Grayson?_

Boy did that have a whole new meaning to him _now_.

*

“Nightwing! Behind you!” Damian was screaming at the top of his lungs, as the man- hyped up on a bastard form of venom, spiked with a healthy dose of fear toxin, grabbed at Dick’s arm, yanking him back by it hard enough to damn near dislocate it. He threw him against a wall, and Dick felt as one of his ribs gave, cracked.

He felt as the back of his skull hit the pavement.

Damian stared, for a moment, before he growled, baring his teeth and charging the brute of a man. Shoulder to the hollow of his ribs, a swift kick up along his side, heel of his hand to his jaw- and he was stumbling back.

Batarang to each shoulder had him distracted enough that Damian could grab him, yank him down and pound his fist into his face until he was drooling blood, a few teeth knocked loose. Until he was going limp, heavy weight crumpling to the ground.

Damian didn’t bother to even check if he was breathing, if he was truly unconscious. He turned, running over to Dick and kneeling down, sliding one hand behind his head, lifting him gently.

“Beloved,” he whispered, and Dick turned towards his voice- was seeing double from the hit to his head. “I’ve got you.”

Dick’s lips quirked up in the smallest curve of a smile.

*

“Damian?” Dick asked, stepping into one of the parlors within the Manor. He could see, as he walked around the couch, Damian’s sketch book on the floor, with various pencils-

And Damian, stretched out on the couch, asleep.

Dick watched him for a moment, meaning to turn around and leave, to give him some peace. But instead he walked closer, slowly, until he was kneeling on the floor, reaching out to stroke some of his short hair back. The teen shifted, his eyes open just barely- Dick could barely see the blue between those thick, black lashes.

“Beloved?” Damian whispered, and Dick’s hand moved from his hair, knuckles stroking over his cheek.

“Yeah,” Dick whispered, “I’m here.”

He wondered how much sleep Damian had actually gotten. He knew he’d been out late on Patrol- Dick himself still sidelined from his last run-in. He was still getting headaches from time to time.

Damian smiled, softly, turning his head so his lips could drag along Dick’s knuckles. It wasn’t exactly a kiss, but it was close enough, and Dick couldn’t keep from smiling softly. He leaned forward, as Damian tipped his head back, eyes closing again- Dick was sure he couldn’t have even considered the boy truly awake- let his lips press to Damian’s temple.

“Get some rest,” he whispered, smiling against Damian’s skin, “beloved.”

Damian hummed, quietly, and Dick settled in to stroke his hair, until the boy had slept enough. Until he could address him as such when he was awake.


	149. Whatever You Want (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [shinya99](http://shinya99.tumblr.com/) asked: "Okay! Damian taken hundreds of selfie of himself topless (or nude ;p) and send one best one to dick but seconds later dick reply with fives and Damian ended in a pool of nosebleed (the opposite situation is good too but I think Dick is master in these things lol)"

Damian pushed his door closed, crossing over to his bed and settling down on it, pulling his phone from his pocket. He had gotten distracted while sketching outside, realized he hadn’t checked it in a good hour.  
A text from Tim, inviting him to the tower that weekend. He clicked his tongue, leaving the response for later- he’d have to decide if he felt up to the company of the Titans. He had grown to find some enjoyment in them, over the years. As he had in Tim- even if he was, at times, loathe to admit that.

A reminder from his father that Alfred was hoping for a _family dinner_ , that evening. _So don’t leave for Patrol early_.

He rolled his eyes.

And then, from Dick-

_What are you up to?_

_Did you fall asleep Dami?_

_Bet you look adorable..._

Damian rolled his eyes, about to text Dick and correct him that he had not been sleeping, but sketching-

He paused, before his lips quirked up in a smile and he tossed his phone down. Grabbing his tshirt, he yanked it up over his head, tossing it to hang on the side of the bed, before he picked up his phone again.

He leaned back into his pillows, still sitting, and held his phone up. He frowned, squirmed a little so get a bit of better lighting, changed the angle slightly so that the picture showed the curves of his abs, down to the hem of his jeans. He snapped the picture, then relaxed, taking a quick look at it- and satisfied, attached it to a text to Dick, adding,

_Does it look like I was sleeping?_

He hit send, then smiled to himself, smugly. Satisfied that it would catch Dick off guard enough. He set his phone back down, so he could grab his tshirt, pull it back on, only to have his phone light up.

It flashed, paused, flashed again. _And again_. He quirked up an eyebrow, grabbed it and opened the stream of messages Dick had sent him-

And nearly dropped his phone back onto his lap.

Dick, biting his lip, tugging on his blue plaid shirt, showing a slice of his chest. Followed by that same chest, fully exposed, angled from Dick’s chin down, so Damian could see each curve of muscle, each pale slice of a scar through his olive skin. Finally, a lower shot, his abs now, and the fact that his jeans had been popped open, the black of his underwear visible.

Damian swallowed, thickly, as his phone flashed again, still in his hands.

_Don’t start this war babybat, you won’t win._

Damian hesitated, before he clicked on Dick’s picture, next to the messages, pulling his phone up to his ear as it rang.

Two rings in, and Dick was answering, a laugh in his voice, “Babe, you have no idea how much practice I have with this.”

“Are you...still undressed?” Damian could barely form words, and he heard Dick _actually_ laugh.

“Uh-huh. Is it messing with you, Damian?” The way he said his name felt utterly obscene, and Damian shivered, his free hand pushing his tshirt up, fingers teasing the muscles along his abs.

“Of course not.” His voice wasn’t nearly as steady as he was sure it should be. “But...Grayson, hypothetically, if I was...with you...”

Dick laughed, again, and it was infuriating and utterly arousing, and Damian loathed and loved the man in that very moment.

“Are you actually asking me what I’d be doing if you were here? Damian, that is the most straight white boy thing I think you’ve ever done.”

Damian frowned, brows knitting together. “-tt- Grayson, I believe it is quite obvious that I am not straight. I would think at least it would be for you. And if you find me white, you must be blind- and consider Drake _transparent_.”

Dick laughed, and Damian was sure he was rolling his eyes. “It’s not literal, Damian. It’s a figure of speech.” Dick smiled, Damian heard it, in his voice, as he continued, “And I’m not complaining, either. What’s it worth to you, knowing what I’d _do to you_ if you were here?”

Damian’s breath hitched, and without even thinking, he whispered, “Whatever you want.”

When Dick spoke again, his voice was wet, filthy, the kind that had Damian’s hips rolling up out of pure instinct.

“Well then Dami, let me hear just how badly you wish you were here.”


	150. Single Dad AU pt15 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "I would adore you forever if you wrote something in your single dad au where dick is showing off his acrobatic ability to damian whether it's handstands at the park/monkey bars. Option if dick gets startled and is about to fall but bruce catches him :DDD"

“I can hold you up the whole time,” Dick offered, feeling the toddler gripping his hand tightly, “if you’re scared.”

Damian pouted, still staring up at the monkey bars on the large playground. Dick waited a moment, before smiling, crouching down so he could look Damian in the eye.

“Wanna see me try?”

“Dee can do it?” Damian asked, glancing up, head tipping so far back. He was so small still, and every time Dick realized he always had the urge to pick him up and hold Damian until the boy was a happy, relaxed mess against his chest.

Dick nodded. “I can. My mommy and daddy taught me. I was in a circus, once.”

“Circus?” Damian perked up, over that, and Dick grinned.

“Yup. The kind with an elephant.” The toddler clapped his hands, excited, and Dick smiled. “So, wanna see me try?”

Damian nodded, and Dick grinned. The bars weren’t that far off his head, so when he reached up, grasping them, he had to bend his legs at the knees, hold them steady, parallel to the ground. It was more work, but he didn’t mind.

He reached out for a bar, grasping at every other to make up for the fact that his arms were longer. “See little D?” he called, looking down at the toddler, who was staring up at him with wide eyes and a slack mouth. “It’s nice up here. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Dick straightened his legs out, stood back up, and Damian clapped, then pointed back up at the bars. “Again!” he called, and Dick chuckled.

“Well...alright.”

He reached up, locking his elbows around the bars so he could lift his body up fully, sliding his legs between two bars until his knees hooked around them. His heels caught over the tops of them, holding him upside down. He grinned, his shirt pooling down at his ribs, his jacket flopping awkwardly around him.

“This good?” he asked, and Damian rushed over, reaching his little hands up and managing to grasp at Dick’s hair, pushing it around. Dick laughed, closing his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of simply hanging.

It had been so long, he was sure he was out of practice. But happy he could at least do this.

When he opened his eyes again, it was because Damian’s little fingers had pulled from his hair. He turned his head, saw the boy had rushed over to his father, who had reappeared from slipping away to take a phone call.

“Daddy! Dad-dy!” Damian yelled, tugging at Bruce’s pants and turning, pointing at Dick. “Look at Dee! He’s _magic_!”

Bruce leaned down, scooping Damian up and walking over, smiling when Dick grinned up at him sheepishly.

“Seems like he is,” Bruce commented, “but is he magic enough to get out of that position?”

Dick laughed, breathy, and swung his body, once, before he lifted up, grasping the bars. He untangled himself- which took longer than he would like to admit, but he knew he was out of practice. But, with a smile, he successfully dropped to the ground. Damian gave a little cheer, squirming in his father’s arms, and Bruce passed him off to Dick, who lifted him up, the boy stretching his arms out as if he was flying.

“Impressive,” Bruce said, sliding a hand to Dick’s back, up under his shirt and jacket, to rest on the small dip at the base of his spine. Dick had no idea how Bruce’s hand was warm, despite the chill settling in the air.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Dick offered, pulling Damian back down to his chest. “Circus brat.”

Bruce raised his brows. “You? Really?” Dick nodded.

“Yeah. Long time ago. Born and raised. My parents were the best acrobats any city ever saw.” Without much thought, Dick leaned in, pressing his mouth to Damian’s temple. The boy happily clung tighter.

Bruce nodded, and Dick realized, in that moment, that he had never spoke of his parents to Bruce. Had never spoke about his life before he had left Gotham- aside of Barbara- to him at all. And he had not asked for much of Bruce’s history, either.

Sure, he knew the basics. Everyone did. The Wayne murders haunted Gotham to this day.

But before that, he had never asked.

“Up!” Damian broke Dick’s thoughts, as the toddler reached up. Dick smiled, lifting him, hands around his waist, holding him steady as he clung to a bar. Dick could tell the boy wasn’t supporting any of his own weight, but still gave him a reassuring cheer as he reached his little hand from one bar to the other.

“There’s a lot I don’t know,” Bruce offered, and Dick glanced at him, offering up a small smile.

“I could say the same.” He looked back at Damian as he continued to speak, the little boy’s cheeks red with excitement, from the chill in the air. Even the tip of his nose was colored. “But we’ve got time.”


	151. Single Dad AU pt16 (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "What's Dick's origin story in the Single Dad AU? Is it the same, just minus Bruce's adoption? Was he sent to juvie, or lost in the system? Did he run away and live on the streets for a while? How did he meet Barbara? SO MANY QUESTIONS ((this AU is literally my favorite thing thank you so much for writing it))"

“You’ve been quiet,” Dick whispered, as Bruce’s fingers worked along his spine, his mouth finding the back of his neck. Dick sighed, content, eyes falling closed as the man let his fingers wander over his waist, so he could press along his back.

“I’ve been thinking,” Bruce admitted, and Dick closed his eyes.

“About?”

“You.” Dick hummed.

“What about me?” Bruce’s hand splayed on Dick’s belly, pressing against muscles he had watched work earlier, when his lover had shown off for his son.

“That I...never asked, about you. About anything. And when you told me about Barbara, I didn’t think that there could be more.” He nosed at the back of Dick’s hair. “Tell me about Dick Grayson.”

Dick hesitated, eyes opening against the dark of the room. He could tell Bruce not tonight. Not now. It was late, he was sure they would be up early- either by Bruce’s alarm, or by Damian coming in to wake them.

He could have, but instead he found himself starting, “It’s not a great story.”

“But it is one I want to hear.”

Dick sighed. “Okay. Where do I start? My parents?” Bruce nodded. “They were acrobats, in a traveling circus. Haley’s Circus...” Dick trailed off for a moment, and Bruce offered,

“I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah. A lot of people have. The Flying Graysons. That was them...and, eventually, me.” Dick paused, licked his lips. “It was an accident, what happened to them. The ropes were...old. Worn. They were supposed to be tossed but...well, things got confusing sometimes during set up. No one noticed, until it was too late. I...I watched my parents fall.” Dick closed his eyes, took a steadying breath. “Hell, if they had lasted another minute, I would’ve died too. I was nine.” He felt Bruce squeeze him, once, but the man didn’t speak.

Dick was almost thankful that he didn’t.

There was something about spilling the truth to Bruce that, while it hurt, always felt _freeing_.

“There was talk of keeping me with the Circus. But ultimately, the system got me. Landed me in a youth home here in good old Gotham. It was...shitty. The say the least. At first. That first night was terrifying. I didn’t know anyone, I just wanted to gentle rock of the train, the fall asleep in a room that still smelled like my parents. Not surrounded by strangers, none of which seemed all that nice. Until...”

Dick paused again, and Bruce, quietly, finally offered, “If you don’t want to-”

“I think I do,” Dick admitted, now. “I slept maybe two hours. But when I woke up, there was a kid on my bed. Just sitting there, looking at me. He was probably a year younger than me, if that. Messy hair, freckles, missing a tooth- which trust me, there was a funny story behind that baby tooth falling out. But, uh, anyway...well...he turned out to be the only kid that took an interest in me. That cared to even ask my name.” Dick reached out, ran his hand along the sheets. “Ever since that first day, Jason’s meant the world to me.”

Dick paused again, pushing back against Bruce until the man moved, so that Dick could roll onto his back, look up at the dark ceiling.

“He made life tolerable. Kept me sane. Got me into a lot of trouble, too. But he...he looked out for me. I was older, it should’ve been the other way around but...well. Jason’s a spitfire. No one messed with me when they realized he’d taken a liking to me. We were inseparable. From the home to school, we were always together. So, when Jason made bad decisions...I did too.” Dick lifted one arm, folding it behind his head, felt the bed shift as Bruce sat up, back in the pillows. Silently watching, listening.

“Jason’s always been into...less than admirable practices. I know. He grew up with it, never knew his real mom. His stepmom was nice but sick, died when he was young, was just him and his dad, and his dad...well, if he’s even alive, he’s still in jail. Jason doesn’t want to know. But anyway, Jason was asked by one of the city gangs to do a little graffiti work for them, in a part of the city that wasn’t their territory. His name got around for weird things like that. And he was psyched, said it was easy money- which we...well. Needed. We wanted to get out of the home as soon as we legally could, figured we’d save up, split as soon as I was 18. We didn’t think anyone would miss Jason if he disappeared a year early. Anyway, we’re fifteen, we’re out in the dead of night, maybe half done...and then the lights come on. And a cop gets out of his car.”

Dick paused, chuckled to himself.

“Looking back, it’s almost funny now. Jim could’ve gotten us in serious trouble. But I didn’t have a record, and Jason somehow had kept pretty clean too. He talked to Jason for a while about the gang that had wanted to pay him for the vandalizing, and said he’d let us off with a warning, if we promised to straighten our asses out. Which we promised.”

Another pause, a breath.

“So we’re going to leave, and then...just down the hall, walks the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen. Freckles just like Jason, pretty green eyes that looked like they’d just been chipped right off a ring, red hair. I was smitten on first sight. And she walks right up to this officer, Jim, calls him dad and offers him a bag and a cup of coffee. Late night snack.”

This time, the chuckle was a true laugh.

“I had no right getting friendly with Barbara. She was three years older than me. I was...bad news. Or, border-line bad news, who hung out with bad news no one had heard yet. But I did. And we just...clicked. I like to think she kept me pretty straight, kept me from going down a bad path. And kept Jason from going a worse path than he did.” Dick glanced over at Bruce. “And well, you sort of get it. We were together for a while...and then...yeah.” Dick paused. “I don’t need to tell that again.”

“No,” Bruce offered, daring to reach out, to stroke some of Dick’s hair. “You don’t.”

“Still want trash like me around your kid?” Dick didn’t mean it, but his voice was almost bitter. He’d worked hard to move past his mistakes as a kid, worked hard to keep himself separate from the mistakes Jason still made.

Bruce frowned. “Dick-”

“Sorry, sorry. I get a little...bitter, over it all. It was rough, but...well. I got my best friend out of it. Got the first love of my life. And no matter how shit ended, I’m still happy about that, you know? I wouldn’t trade Jason for the world, no matter what shit he gets into. And Babs...well, she’s my friend again. And besides, without all of that...who knows where I’d be now. Probably not here.”

He stopped, sucked on his tongue for a moment.

“I think I’m done talking now. That was...a lot.”

“I did ask,” Bruce pointed out. “I wanted to know.” Dick nodded, opened his mouth to speak more, before they heard the struggled turning of the door knob.

“Daddy?” came from behind the door, sleepy and sounding terrified. “Dee?” Bruce was up before Dick could even say anything, crossing the room and opening the door, finding Damian standing there, little hands fiddling together.

“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked, scooping him up into his arms. Damian rested his cheek against his father’s shoulder.

“Bad dream.” Bruce nodded, closing the door and carrying the toddler over to the bed. Dick sat up, sliding over and accepting the child that was passed to him, so Bruce could climb into bed.

“You can sleep with us,” Bruce offered, “we’ll keep the bad dreams away.” He stretched out, on his back, and Dick set Damian down, who instantly curled up, head pillowed on his father’s chest. Dick lay down after, on his side, pressing an arm over the two of them, pinning Damian between the heat of his own body and his father’s. The boy gave a happy sigh, and Dick dared a glance up, over him, to look at Bruce.

The man gave him a smile. And Dick knew the statement wasn’t just for Damian. That Dick’s own bad dreams could be kept away by the family he was snuggled up with, in that moment.

That his past didn’t have to define him. That Bruce could know it, and still see him as he was, in that moment. Someone who had learned, who had grown.

Who completed a family he could have never dreamed he’d be lucky enough to have.


	152. Like That (BruDick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "could we have more of dick in his panties and falling in love with bruce as a teen"
> 
> Technically, in the same verse as "Clean You Up". Probably sometime after.

Dick tugged on his cape, making sure it was secure. He’d been waiting in the cave, rather impatiently, for twenty minutes now. Bruce wasn’t one to be late for patrol, and he was beginning to wonder if he was simply cancelling for the night- and forgetting to tell him- when he strode out of the elevator, finally, Alfred walking quickly behind him.  
“Master Bruce, you cannot think to miss this benefit. You agreed months prior, you know. It would be rude, not to attend.”

Bruce huffed, stopping to glance at Dick, who felt his stomach flipping, with those eyes on him. He folded his arms, trying to make himself seem...sturdy. When in reality, he felt as if his knees might give out.

He was going to have to get a handle on this- whatever it was, he had for Bruce.

_Crush. A stupid, stupid crush._

“I can handle patrol on my own,” Dick pointed out- which was true. He’d done it before. Hell, he worked without Bruce plenty.

Bruce seemed to consider it, before sighing. “Fine then.” He turned, glancing at Alfred. “Happy?”

“Quiet, sir. Now please, if you’ll head back upstairs, so we can get you into your suit.”

*

There was something freeing, about patrolling alone. And normally, Dick would relish the chance to swing and fall from rooftops at his leisure, at the chance to show Gotham’s criminals that he was just as fearsome as the big bad bat.  
Except tonight was boring, to the most extreme. He’d scared off maybe two muggers. That was it. No gang activity. No freaky Asylum escapees. Nothing. At all.

Which was why Dick found himself, settling on one of the lovely gargoyle moldings of the neighboring building, watching where he knew Bruce was, at his charity benefit. From here, he could watch as people came and went, fancy cars pulling up, gentlemen in suits, women in their expensive gowns. At this point, it was mostly people leaving, or stepping out for a breath of air.

Dick figured it was stupid, coming here. But he had nothing better to do, and wasn’t ready to call it a night yet. Besides, maybe he’d be lucky, get a glimpse of Bruce in his suit. There was something charming about _Brucie_ that Dick liked- even if the Bruce he knew away from the cameras was the man that made his heart do that ridiculous thumping against his ribs, there was something about his public smile, his playfulness, that got to Dick, as well.  
Who was he kidding, every single aspect of Bruce made his legs feel like jelly.

He let his legs dangle over the edge, felt the rough material against his bare thighs. Honestly, he was a little cold- figured he should have switched his classic suit out for something more practical, to deal with late night Gotham autumn air. But he had been hoping to have Bruce by his side- hoping, in all pathetic honesty, that showing a little leg might get his attention.

_Idiot._

Dick leaned forward, slightly, watching as a couple stepped out from the front doors. He reached up to his mask, zooming in, and- yes, that was indeed Bruce. And god, Dick had to bite his lip for a moment.

He wasn’t even wearing a tie. His suit was black, the jacket opened, his shirt such a rich red that Dick almost wanted to make a joke that it belonged with _his costume_. Except it looked good, too good. And he had the first few buttons open, the curve of his collar bone visible.

He had his arm around a woman’s waist. One Dick didn’t know, didn’t recognize. But he wasn’t the best at this whole socialite thing, and he knew it. Sure, the city seemed to eat him up as Bruce’s _charming ward_ , but names and faces really eluded him. He just smiled his best smile at everyone and hoped that was enough.  
She was laughing, and Bruce had his typical smile. Dick exhaled, shifting, feeling himself throb, once, wishing Bruce would just smile at him like that.

_You’re doomed if you ever forget a cup._

Dick watched as Bruce leaned in, pressed his mouth to the woman’s neck, and closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t need to see that.  
Would she be going home with Bruce? Or was this just for show?

If it was the former, Dick was fairly sure he’d find a reason to stay out late on patrol. He’d thought, once, that maybe sneaking around the manor, knowing Bruce was being intimate with someone- that it might be a thrill. That it might give him the closest thing he’d get to actual intimacy with Bruce.

All he’d gotten was a hard-on that he hadn’t even been able to take care of, because he’d _cried like a child_ because it wasn’t him. Because Bruce wouldn’t ever touch him, like that. Look at him, like that.

Love him like that.

Dick opened his eyes with an exhale, watched as now the woman was walking away, giving Bruce a small wave. He waved back, watched as she walked over to a car pulling up- and was gone.

Dick glanced back at Bruce, gasping when he realized the man was staring directly up at him. He set his mask back to its normal view, and without hesitation shoved himself off the ledge, allowing a sweet moment or two of free fall, before he pulled his hook shot out, shot off a line that allowed him to graceful landing.

Bruce had walked away from the large steps of the building, off towards the deep shadow cast by the building Dick had been perched on. Dick took a step back, fitting into the neat, empty alley between the two, and a moment later, Bruce was following.

“What are you doing in this part of the city, little bird?” Bruce asked. He was still boasting that smile, and Dick let his back press up against one of the walls, swallowing thickly.

Oh, thank every god ever thought up for the fact that he always wore a damn cup.

“Got bored,” he forced out, trying to sound sure of himself- cocky. The Robin Bruce was used to- not the one he’d been reduced to, as of late. “This city is boring as hell tonight. Wanted to see if you were having more fun than me.”

“And?”

“Probably. She was cute.” Dick tried to sound casual. “Definitely more fun than my night.” He forced a grin, the kind that was a bit filthy, that gave away what he was insinuating- and god, it _hurt_.

“Should I call her back for you?” Dick blushed, over that, and Bruce smiled again, something wicked. _Oh, lord_.

When he took another step towards Dick, the teen wasn’t entirely sure what was even happening. This felt...different. He felt trapped, in the sweetest way possible. And Bruce’s eyes- they were something else. Gone dark, staring right into him. He shivered, and he knew Bruce saw it.  
Another step, and Bruce was in his space, leaning a hand against the wall. Dick tipped his head back, staring up at him, one hand reaching up, fingers running along the lapel of his jacket.

“You look good,” he breathed, without even thinking. Then, as an after thought, “Uh, red’s...good on you.” His cheeks tinged pink, and Bruce chuckled.

“I’m thinking it’s more your color, right now.”

“It’s cold,” Dick snapped, far too quickly, too defensively. His hand pulled form Bruce’s jacket, hesitating a moment, before reaching out, rubbing along a single black button on the shirt, before pulling back away.

“Then maybe it’s time to call it a night,” Bruce offered, leaning a little closer, his thigh sliding between Dick’s legs. Dick’s breath caught, as Bruce’s other hand reached out, pressed his wrist to his cheek. “You are warm.”

_You have no idea._

“Head back to the cave,” Bruce offered, pulling his hand back. “I’ll meet you home.”

“Ending your night so soon?”

Bruce let his eyes flick down over Dick’s face, and the teen swore they stopped at his mouth. _Aw, hell_.

“Maybe it’s just starting.” Bruce pulled away, straightening up. “Think you can beat me home?”

Dick grinned then, almost happy for the reprieve. “Oh, you’re on.” He pulled his hook shot from his belt, and was up in the air without another word, another glance.

He was terrified that if he stayed too long, he might melt into a puddle at Bruce’s feet.


	153. Really? (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Mandi, I had a horrible first day of school, can you please write some JayDick fluff with Dick comforting Jason cause he did something wrong please?"

“I messed up,” Jason said, tearing his mask off the moment they were inside the cave. “I messed up, and Bruce is going to kill me.”

“He’s not,” Dick offered, pulling his gloves off, watching as Jason shed his Robin cape.

Jason only shook his head. “We had him, we could’ve had Crane. And I went and let me guard down. I’m lucky he went for me, and not you. What if he had hurt you?” Jason’s eyes were wide now, pretty lashes fanned out against his cheeks, which were red with embarrassment, anger. His freckles seemed like small, burning stars.

“He didn’t,” Dick pointed out, but Jason only shook his head.

“God he _could have_.” Dick watched as the teen trembled, once, before he folded his arms over his chest, trying to hide it. “He could have and then not only would Bruce rip this costume off me, he’d throw me back on the streets. If he didn’t break his rule first.”

“Jason!” Dick barked, for a moment damn near losing his patience. Jason straightened up, went tense, and Dick sighed. He crossed the small space between them, reaching out and hooking an arm around his waist, pulling him in. “Take a deep breath. Bruce would never do that to you. He loves you, you know?” Jason glanced away, and Dick rolled his eyes, reaching up to brush his dark fringe off his forehead. “And I wouldn’t let him. I love you too, kid. You didn’t do anything tonight that I haven’t done a thousand times.”

Jason glanced up, bit at his lip for a moment, before, “Really?”

“Yeah. I made a lot of stupid mistakes, trust me.”

“No, not that.” His cheeks seemed to burn impossibly redder. “You really...love me?”

Dick stared down at him for a moment, as Jason looked away. Still worrying his lip. Then, carefully, Dick smiled, pulling Jason in tighter, holding him against his chest.

“Of course I do,” he whispered, “forever and always, little wing. You’re stuck with me.”

“I can live with that,” Jason offered, and Dick let him pull back a slightly, so he could ruffle his hair. So he could see Jason’s grin.

“Hit the showers,” Dick offered, then, in a moment of weakness, he reached out, tapping his finger against the tip of Jason’s nose. “I think you’re sleeping with me tonight.”

Jason nodded, pulling from his hold and running off towards the showers. Dick paused to scoop up his forgotten cape, leave it on a table with their masks. He figured it wouldn’t hurt, to have Jason wrapped up in his arms for the night. Maybe it’s chase away all those doubts, he had.

After all, the kid was a damn good Robin, and Dick knew it. Knew he didn’t reserve the self-doubt he had. And knew that everything he’d said was true- Bruce loved Jason. Didn’t matter if he made a mistake, Bruce had gotten used to that with Dick.

And Dick...he loved him to. Hadn’t lied for even a moment when he’d told Jason _always_. 

He would always have room in his heart for his little wing.


	154. Just Relax (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Just relax, ill wash your hair for you- with jaytim?? I think itd be so cute with your amazing writing! Ty!"

“Ow!” Jason hissed, as he eased himself into the tub slowly. Tim frowned, watching the tense muscles in his back as he eased down, the old scars over slightly tanned skin- the fresh ones, too.

“Careful,” he whispered, kneeling down as Jason finally settled in the hot water, resting against the back. “Don’t want you getting even more banged up.”

“It’s just a few pulled muscles-”

“And a cracked rib, maybe two. I think you sprained your ankle. You almost dislocated your shoulder. Among other things.” Tim leaned forward, draping his arms over Jason’s shoulder, breathing against the shell of his ear. “Humor me and try to relax, okay?”

Jason rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. He’d simply wanted to scrub the city’s grime from his skin and crawl into bed, but Tim had insisted on a bath- which seemed utterly ridiculous, and a waste of time.

Except that the warm water was already making his muscle feel loose. That it smelled faintly like lavender, and Jason wondered what Tim had done to the water, while he’d been giving himself a look over for injuries. The bleeding kind, that is.

Tim’s hands moved over his collar bone, the younger man lifting up on his knees, hands skimming over Jason’s wet chest, under the water. “Favor,” Tim whispered, “get your hair wet.”

Jason arched an eyebrow, but listened, sliding out of his hold until he could submerge. He was rather thankful, in that moment, for the expensive tub Tim had been so enthusiastic about. It had room for that.

Hell, it had room for Tim, too.

When Jason lifted himself up again, he reached up, wiping the water from his eyes before opening them. Tim had, in that time, gathered the shampoo from their shower, and was coming back to kneel at the head of the tub.

“Just relax,” he said again, as Jason leaned against the tub again, could smell the scent of the shampoo as Tim poured some into his hand. “I’ll wash your hair for you.”

It should have been cold, Jason figured- but Tim had rubbed his palms together, helping to froth it up, and his fingers worked through Jason’s dark hair, massaging against his scalp. He let his head fall back more, eyes drooping shut, as Tim smiled softly at him. He could smell lavender, rose petals- the ridiculous cocktail that Tim loved and that he couldn’t fight him on.

Jason hummed as Tim continued to work the shampoo into his hair, loved the feel of his blunt nails when they would gently scratch his scalp, the pressure that somehow seemed to ease the ache from his skull. When Tim was satisfied, he leaned forward, letting his arms rest on Jason’s shoulders, hands falling into the water. He breathed against the shell of his ear, once, and Jason shuddered, softly.

Tim smiled, turning to kiss his jaw. “I’ll take care of you tonight,” he promised.

And Jason was inclined, as always, to believe him.


	155. Cute When You Pout (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "can we get some little cute robin!JayDick "Youre so cute when you pout" please?"

“No way,” Dick said, folding his arms, feet planted firmly on the floor of the cave. In front of him, Jason was staring.

“Aw, c’mon Dick-”

“I said no.” Dick sighed, unfolding his arms, offering up his palms. “Listen, Bruce would kill me, okay? He’s trusting Gotham to us while he’s gone- imagine if he comes back to hear I let the kid drive the Batmobile.”

“I’m not a kid,” Jason pointed out, lower lip protruding slightly as he folded his own arms, yellow cape falling over his shoulders. Dick stared at him for a moment, before his face softened, and he smiled. He crossed over to him quickly, throwing his arm around the teen’s shoulders and squeezing.

“Alright, you’re not,” Dick reasoned, “but you’re not driving tonight, okay?” Jason huffed, and the put didn’t disappear. Dick chuckled, reaching out, tapping the tip of his nose playfully. “You’re so cute when you pout.”

“I, what?” Jason jerked away, arms flailing for a moment, color rising to his cheeks, bringing out the color of his freckles. Dick grinned.

“You heard me.”

“I- I wasn’t _pouting_!”

“Sure looked that way to me little wing.” Dick walked past him, heading for the Batmobile.

“ _I wasn’t_!”

“Whatever you say,” Dick called behind him, opening the door. He turned, leaning against it, watching Jason as he stood there, blushing even more, looking so utterly confused and caught.

He was too much.

“You coming?” Dick asked, and Jason glanced around, as if he had another option, before nodding and hurrying to the car. As he was climbing in, Dick was sure Bruce should leave the city more in their care- if only so he had more opportunities to make the latest Robin blush like that.


	156. You're Safe (Jason&Bruce)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Bruce and lil Robin!Jason, "Ssh, you're safe. I won't let go of you.""
> 
> They also sent a second ask requesting this be platonic :3

Bruce watched as Jason jerked back from Crane, the boy giving a scream so strong into the night it felt as it the air around them shattered. Behind it, Crane’s laughter could be heard, but it seemed to fade. All of it did, really, as Bruce honed in on Jason, who had spun, was looking wide eyed, terrified behind his mask, at the street.

Bruce tossed the man who he had been fighting to the side, crossing the space between him and Jason in seconds, reaching out for the boy. He grabbed his shoulders with his large hands, squeezing.

“Robin!” His voice cut, deep, and Jason jerked his head up, staring at him. The color had drained from his cheeks, leaving Jason looking ghostly, as if his freckles were nothing but ink droplets on a blank sheet of paper.

He pulled away from Bruce a moment later, shuddered, glancing around them, reaching up to tug at his hair. He pulled, so hard Bruce was sure he pulled some out, before he fell down to his knees. Behind him, Crane had turned, was leaving the scene towards a car, hurtling towards them down the street.

Bruce had the option to chase him. Pursuit would end his capture, he knew. He could beat Crane, in that moment, to the car. If not, he could latch on, pull himself up onto the roof and handle it from there.

Instead, he went for Jason again, grabbing the boy and pulling him into his arms, pressing him against his chest.

“Robin!” he called again, and as the boy gave another muffled scream, a softer, “Jason. Jason, it’s okay.” Bruce squeezed, felt Jason surge against his body, hands clawing at the suit, until they pressed against the Bat on his chest. He looked up, lip quivering.

In that moment, he didn’t look like the young teen Bruce kept by his side every night on patrol. He looked a small child. Endlessly small, as if he could fit in Bruce’s palm.

Bruce fell down to his knees, found it easier to hold him that way. He rubbed at his back, and Jason began to relax, arms reaching up to go around Bruce’s neck.

“You’re safe,” he whispered, one hand finding Jason’s hair, stroking gently. “I won’t let got of you.”

Jason did relax, then. He hiccuped his breath, a broken sob at the end of it. Bruce had no idea what he was seeing, even behind closed eyes- but they wouldn’t move until the waking nightmares were gone, if need be.


	157. Jacket (JayTim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "From the prompts "Share your jacket, I forgot mine.” For Jaytim pleeease~"

“It’s weird,” Tim commented, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Being in Gotham at night, on the streets. Not in uniform.”

Jason snorted, shrugging a shoulder as they moved down the busy street, away from the movie theater.

“Nice though,” Tim added, as Jason felt around his jacket for his cigarettes, his lighter. “Makes you feel normal.”

“We’re anything but,” Jason pointed out, before holding a cigarette between his lips, one hand cupped behind it as he fought with his lighter. Once he had it lit, he took a long drag, exhaling away from Tim, as the younger man looked up.

“Sky looks pretty, even with all the lights.” Jason glanced up- to him, it looked normal. Like every other night. But he held those thoughts in, for Tim’s sake.

He knew his lover had a thing for trying at normalcy, from time to time.

Tim shivered, reaching up and rubbing at his arms, before he stopped, turning to look at Jason. “Share your jacket, I forgot mine.”

Jason laughed, holding his cigarette purposefully away from Tim. “So I should freeze because your forgetful?” Tim glanced away, and Jason held the cigarette between his lips, tugging at his leather jacket anyway.

He didn’t actually believe Tim was cold- he just wanted to tease. He knew it wasn’t about that, it was about the jacket itself. He handed it off to Tim, who slid into the worn leather, pulling it up around his chin for a moment and inhaling, smelling faded smoke, aged leather, Jason’s cologne. Everything.

No, it wasn’t about Tim being cold at all. It was about being wrapped up in everything Jason- same as when he stole Jason’s tshirts to sleep in. It was always about having something of Jason’s pressed right up against his skin.

Jason also didn’t miss the fact that Tim clung to his arm now, leaning in. Didn’t miss the glances they got as they continued down the sidewalk.

It was a blatant statement- that Tim was Jason’s. Jason was his.

Jason tilted his head back, exhaling smoke into the air above them. He couldn’t complain.


	158. Falling (DickWally)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: ""Shh you're safe. I won't let go of you" birdflash, maybe something to do with fear toxin? Xoxoxo"
> 
> Since I used fear toxin with this prompt already, I chose a different route.

Wally didn’t know what Dick dreamt about, on nights like these. Nights where he squirmed and thrashed around the bed, small whines and almost pained groans escaping his pretty lips. Didn’t know what was so terrifying behind those eyes that he would clutch at Wally so tightly it would wake him up, from a dead sleep.

Wally sat up, the movement jarring Dick, causing him to roll away, clutch at his pillow, back to Wally. Even in the dark, he should see his shoulders quivering.

He reached out, placed his warm hand between them, thumb rubbing softly. “Dick,” he whispered, before that hand moved to his shoulder, gripping gently to roll him onto his back. The moment his back hit the mattress his jerked, spine arching into an impossible curve, a loud gasp filling the room as his eyes snapped open.

For a terrifying moment, Dick seemed frozen like that, looking at if terror had frozen him forever in time. Wally watched as he fell back to the mattress, gasping for breath, limbs trembling.

“C’mere,” Wally offered, helping him up, pulling him against his chest. Dick grabbed at his tshirt, pressed his cheek against his chest and closed his eyes. He was trying to steady his breaths, time them with the beats of Wally’s heart. Wally knew- there had been enough nights like this to know what Dick needed, in the aftermath of his nightmares.

“Shh, you’re safe,” Wally whispered, stroking his boyfriend’s dark hair back, knuckles running over one cheek. “I won’t let go of you babe.”

Dick nodded, once, didn’t safe a word as he closed his eyes. Wally would keep him like this, until Dick’s breathing had slowed, was even. Until he was limp, until he was asleep again. Then he’d ease him back, curled up around his side, cheek pressed to the olive skin of his shoulder, and he’d wait.

He’d wait until sleep took him again, too. Or until morning, when he wouldn’t ask what Dick saw that terrified so much.

Those terrors were private, he knew. And while he didn’t know what Dick dreamt of on nights like these- he knew what it felt like to wake up with the sensation of falling.


	159. Late (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [teentitansorgy](http://teentitansorgy.tumblr.com/) asked: "from the prompt thing “C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working!” and dickdami?"

“Grayson, it is _late_.”

Dick didn’t glance up from the cave’s main computer, eyes locked on the screen.

“Uh-huh.”

“ _Grayson_.”

Dick blinked, turned in his chair. Damian was watching, arms folded over his chest. He had changed from his suit into sweat pants, on of Dick’s old tshirts- even showered, Dick realized, from the dampness of his hair.

Dick had gotten as far as removing his mask.

“Uh, yeah. Just give me another minute. I have to finish this review of Arkham reports. Head on up to bed.” Dick turned back to the screen. “I’ll be there soon.”

Damian rolled his eyes, stalking over and gripping the back of the chair, leaning forward. “-tt- the last time I did that, you crawled in hours later. And slept for nearly the whole next day.”

Dick didn’t respond, and Damian tugged on the chair, jerking it back. Dick glanced up at him.

“I do not want to sleep alone again,” Damian reasoned. Perhaps if he gave a little, Dick would as well. “These files will be here in the morning.”

Dick chewed on the inside of his lips, then glanced back at the screen. “Let’s compromise,” he offered, “there’s only a few more reports for this log. You can sit on my lap until I’m done working- and I’ll stop after these, and we can go to bed.”

Damian stared at him, and for a moment Dick expected the teen to berate him for being ridiculous, to retract his statement about sleeping alone and stalk off to his room. But a moment passed, and then Damian was walking around, settling himself onto Dick’s lap, legs framing Dick’s so his toes were lifted just above the ground.

Dick smiled, one arm going around Damian’s waist as he leaned in, kissed his hair once, before allowing his chin to rest on the teen’s shoulder. Damian reached up and back blindly, fingers teasing Dick’s hair lightly.

“-tt- you better read quickly.”

Dick chuckled to himself, and gave Damian’s waist a squeeze.


	160. Attention (StephCass)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: ""I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” CassSteph please"

Stephanie leaned back into the cushioned lawn chair, sighing contently as she flipped to the next page of her book. It was warm, late spring, and everything smelled fresh. For once, it felt like there was a chance to relax.

She was barely two sentences into the new page when she felt a poke against her upper arm. She glanced up, found Cass staring down at her.

“Oh, hi,” Steph offered, smiling. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Stephanie nodded, and turned back to her book. Another sentence, another poke. She glanced up again.

“Cass?”

Silence.

She shook her head, dared to glance down again- and this time, the poke was harder.

“Oh my god, what?” Stephanie turned the book face down, settled it on her lap. Cass reached back, rubbed the back of her neck. There was a hint of color on her tanned skin, along the curve of her cheek bones, under those dark almond eyes. Eyes that seemed intent on not meeting Stephanie’s. “Spit it out Cass.”

“Pay attention to me.” It was quiet, could have almost been childish- except that Stephanie knew Cass was serious, and that attention was something she wasn’t used to caring about- let alone wanting from someone.

Stephanie chuckled, leaning back and reaching a hand up. Cass leaned over her, so Stephanie could brush her fingers along her cheek.

“Sure thing gorgeous,” she offered, sinking those fingers into Cass’s hair and tugging her down. The other girl reached out, braced herself on Stephanie’s chair as she leaned over her, exhaled once against Stephanie’s too-pink mouth. “All you had to do was ask.”

The kiss Stephanie gave her, though, she didn’t need to ask for.


	161. Tickle Attack (BluePulse)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: ""Surprise tickle attack!” Bluepulse"
> 
> This is set sometime in some distant future where they’re older and things are nice and happy and I don’t even really know. It was actually my first time writing BluePulse c:

“Whatcha up to her-man-o?” Bart asked, leaning over the back of the couch to the point that Jaime was sure his feet were no longer touching the ground. His terrible Spanish accent was enough to truly jar the teen from the book he held in his lap.

“Reading ese,” he offered, “Some of us have homework.” Truthfully, it would have been smart to do this at home, and not HQ, but Jaime was stuck waiting around on retainer in case of emergency for the evening. And he didn’t see a point in wasting the time.

“Anything good?” The speedster asked, trying to lean closer. Jaime shook his head.

“For one of those general English classes. College isn’t as…spectacular as they make it seem.” He flipped a page, and Bart pulled himself a bit closer-

Before tumbling over the back of the couch, onto the cushions, and then rolling off, onto the floor with a _thud_. Bart groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head, and Jaime snickered.

“That’s what you get hermano,” he said, looking back at his book. He missed Bart pout, didn’t bother looking up as the other teen crawled back up onto the couch.

He did, however, give the speedster his attention when his fingers suddenly pressed into his sides, tickling him at a rate that was definitely inhuman.

“Bart- wha-stop!” he laughed, knocking his book from his lap. It tumbled to the floor as Jaime squirmed, ended up with his back pressed against the arm of the couch. Bart nearly crawled on top of him, one hand pressing along his navel, fingers still moving so fast that Jaime couldn’t breathe between his laughter.

“Surprise tickle attack!” Bart finally yelled, as Jaime kicked and just missed him.

“Podría matarte!” Bart didn’t stop, and Jaime felt his cheeks burning. “Stop! Ese, Bart, _stop_!”

Bart finally did, settling back as Jaime took a moment to suck in his breath, the room spinning from his lack of oxygen from laughing so hard. He pulled himself up, so fast he nearly bumped right into Bart, who was grinning at him. Jaime rolled his eyes, hooking an arm loosely around his shoulders.

“What the hell was that for?”

“To get your attention.” Bart grinned, and Jaime rolled his eyes, gave his head a gentle shake.

“You’re loco, Bart.”

The speedster was still grinning, even when Jaime kissed him.


	162. Way Too Cold (JaySteph)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "“It’s too cold! Get back here…” I've seen you write JaySteph before, so maybe that?"

“Who thought this was a good idea?” Jason asked, watching as Dick threw himself off the porch into a mound of snow. Above him, watching, Tim gave a loud cheer.

“That would be Wonder boy number one, and number three,” Stephanie pointed out. They were standing back, towards the door to the Manor, watching as Tim leaned over the porch to yell something at Dick. A moment, and Damian was rushing up behind him, shoving him off and watching with a grin as Tim tumbled down into the snow.

Jason snorted in laughter, and Stephanie grinned, clapping her hands once.

“Good one Damian!”

He turned back, giving her a smile, before turning back to lean over. She could hear Tim screaming, but couldn’t make out the words over the wind that was picking up.

“Should I go shove him?” she whispered, leaning over towards Jason. Then, before he could respond, took a step towards Damian. Jason reached out, grabbed her by the back of her jacket, tugging her back that step, until she crashed back against his chest.

“No way,” he reasoned, “it’s too cold, and you’ll be miserable when he gets his revenge and you’re neck deep in this blizzard.” He leaned into her hair, “It’s too cold anyway. Let’s just go inside.”

“Why? Afraid Cass is going to drink all your hot chocolate?” Stephanie giggled as Jason wrapped both his arms around her, squeezing.

“No. But I’m afraid you will, and right under my nose.”

Stephanie gave a mock gasp, leaning her head back and looking up. “Jason, I never!” Her voice was full of overly fake distress. He could only laugh, before he scooped her up, and without missing a beat, strode across the porch. Stephanie squirmed, then gave a shout as Jason tossed her with ease over the edge, down into the snow.

A moment later and he was climbed over the railing, hopping down into it as well, rolling once before staying on his back. Next to him, she was pushing herself up, snow sticking to her hair, scarf coming unraveled.

“Jerk!” she yelled, even as she laughed and scooped up some snow, tossing it awkwardly at him. Jason laughed, and Stephanie flopped down onto his chest, leaning over to brush the tip of her nose against his. “It’s way too cold now,” she reasoned, “and since it’s your fault, you have to warm me up.”

Jason reached his arms around her, leaning up to kiss her cold lips quickly. “Oh, what a shame,” he mocked, “How will I survive?”

“By forking over your hot chocolate.” Stephanie paused, then, “And another kiss, or two.”

Jason grinned. That, he could do.


	163. Not Ever (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [asimplebanana](http://asimplebanana.tumblr.com/) asked: "“I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long—come here, I missed you.” Dick and Damian, please! After Dick returns from his pretend death. Thank you, I love your ficlets uwu"

Dick stared at the kid- damn, could he even really call him that now?- who had once been his Robin. Who had once been so small.

And sure, Dick was still taller than him, by an inch, maybe two. But Damian seemed like a whole different person, in that moment. He’d lost the roundness of his cheeks, boasted sculpted cheekbones like his mother, and- wow, Dick had never realized just how much like Talia he actually looked.

To his credit, Damian was simply staring at him. Dick expected a barrage of insults, he excepted screaming. He expected a ten-year-old throwing a tantrum.

He got a teenager with too-pretty eyes that were all Bruce staring at him like Dick had stepped right out of a long forgotten bedtime story. Like Dick shouldn’t be real.

“I…didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long,” Dick finally said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Damian said nothing, and god, Dick almost wished he would.

The silence, he didn’t know how to take it. Was Damian upset? Was he thrilled? Did he care at all, that Dick was alive?

Dick inhaled, slowly. All he knew was that he himself cared that he was standing here now, across from this kid who had meant the world to him. Who grew up and was way too pretty and-

“Come here,” Dick started, and then, his voice breaking, “I missed you.”

There was a moment, and then Damian was moving towards him. Slowly, as if he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. But those last few steps turned into a run, and a moment later Damian was throwing his arms around Dick’s waist, leaning in and pressing his face into his chest.

Dick squeezed him, tightly, leaned his chin down on the top of Damian’s head.

“I won’t do it again,” Dick offered, “Not ever.”

He felt Damian tremble- and he was sure he was imagining it. Then, “-tt- you had better not, Grayson…” He inhaled, resting his cheek against Dick’s chest, refusing to let go. “You had better not…”


	164. Is It a Problem? (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [violetscythe ](http://violetscythe%20.tumblr.com/) asked: ""Are you wearing my shirt?" or “What, does that feel good?” Dick/Dami please. :)"

Dick closed his apartment door behind him, sighing as he toed his shoes off, heading into the dark. The clock above his stove read nearly eleven. He turned towards his bedroom, tossing open the door and flicking on the light-

And nearly jumping out of his skin, when he found Damian leaning back against the pillows.

“Jesus,” Dick breathed, dropping his bag on the floor. “Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“-tt- why are you so late?”

Dick frowned. “I was busy. Why are you just in my apartment?” Damian rolled his eyes.

“You gave me a key.”

“Okay, true. But maybe text me first? Or, I dunno, say something when you heard the door open?” He paused, glancing Damian over once, the fact that he was in a tshirt that was definitely too large for him, and…yup. Just his underwear.

If Dick was annoyed, it was fading fast.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

Damian smirked- the kind that was a gentle twitch of his pouty lips, the kind that had Dick’s heart- among other things- throbbing.

“Yes. Is it a problem Grayson?” Dick shook his head, crossing the room and crawling up onto the bed. He moved along Damian’s legs, straddling one thigh while one hand rubbed up the other. Damian tipped his head back, as Dick leaned in, pushed that hand up under the tshirt to run up his abs, over his chest, fingers finding and pinching one nipple.

Damian gasped.

“What?” Dick mocked, breath ghosting along the shell of Damian’s ear. “That feel good?”

Damian let his eyes fall shut, as Dick nipped at his earlobe, not needing an answer. He knew it did- knew every way he touched Damian always felt like heaven.

And well, he figured the kid deserved a little payback, for startling him. And Dick wasn’t going to pretend he wouldn’t enjoy the sweet, slow torturous work up.


	165. No Touching (DickDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "dickdami damian topping from the bottom and dick isnt allowed to touch unless permitted to"

Damian groaned, arching his back, legs squeezing around Dick’s waist as he thrust into him. Dick’s eyes nearly rolled, over the way Damian sounded so utterly obscene wordlessly, over how tight, hot, _achingly perfect_ he was.

He grasped at the teen’s thighs, before Damian pushed up, grabbing at Dick’s shoulders and rolling them. Dick landed on his back, pinned down as Damian pressed his biceps against his shoulders, hands in his hair, kissing him with too much teeth. Exactly how Dick liked it.

Damian was moving his hips, still. Creating a new rhythm, lifting his hips before slamming back down, causing Dick to groan into his mouth. The teen tried to smirk around his tongue, before pulling off his mouth, hands moving from his hair, one grasping Dick’s shoulder, the other resting on the mattress, supporting himself as he lifted his chest from Dick’s.

Dick reached out, went to grasp at his hips, and Damian slapped his hand away. Dick retracted, confused, and Damian grinned. The kind of grin devils saved for their favorite, poor souls.

“No touching,” he warned, hand moving back to Dick’s shoulder, squeezing until his blunt nails dug into his skin. “Understood?”

In emphasis, he pushed his hips back down, taking Dick fully inside his body. Dick grinned, tipping his head back, but offered up a broken “yes” in response. Damian kept his grin.

“Good.”

Dick’s hands twitched at his sides, fingers itching to touch. To feel Damian’s hot skin, the breaks from his scars. To tug at his hair, trace his swollen lips. But he resisted, and Damian made it all but easy, with the way his hips moved mercilessly, hard and fast, chasing his own pleasure blindly. He was gasping, moaning right over Dick’s mouth, taunting that he was right there, so close-

But Dick couldn’t touch.

“Grayson,” he breathed, and Dick felt his body clench around him, once, tightly. Dick groaned.

“Fucking hell, Dami. Dami _please_.” Dick lifted his head, tried to kiss him, but Damian was too fast, rising higher, a bemused smirk playing at his lips.

“Bad,” Damian chastised, breathy. “Be a good boy, Grayson. I said _no touching_.” He squeezed his shoulder again, kept his grip firm as he pulled his hand from the bed, reaching back to grasp at his own cock. He stroked up, precum spilling down over his knuckles, dripping onto Dick’s navel.

Damian shivered, and Dick whimpered.

“Damian-”

“ _No_.” Damian smirked, let his tongue dart out over his lips, rocking forward and then back along Dick’s cock, his own hand stroking himself in a rhythm that matched. “Unless you can convince me-”

“I’ll make you come,” Dick breathed, “You know I will. If I can hold your hips, guide you so you can-” his words broke as he groaned, Damian echoing the sound, “-can ride me. C’mon Dami, baby, _c’mon_.”

Damian chuckled, squeezing his own cock so his eyes nearly rolled. Dick chewed on his own lip, for a moment.

“You know you like my hand better,” he reasoned, and watched as Damian’s strokes sped up, his chest rising and falling quickly. His rhythms were losing each other- he was thrusting back against Dick as hard as he could, as fast. His hand was squeezing, moving desperately. “I know just how to touch you, pretty boy.”

Damian shuddered, and suddenly he was tossing his head back, baring his throat as his body clenched tightly around Dick, his orgasm spilling up along Dick’s abs. Dick groaned, felt Damian’s hips falter, until they had stilled. The teen was panting, as he let his head bow down.

“Okay,” he whispered glancing up through his thick lashes with eyes so blown Dick’s cock throbbed over them alone. “You can touch, Grayson.”

Dick grasped his hips, rolling them again, until he was pressed against Damian’s body, thrusting into him without a rhythm. Hyper sensitive now, Damian let a loud cry rip from his throat- a throat Dick sucked at, leaving a fresh bruise next to one he had left earlier.

“That’s it, Grayson,” Damian breathed, head tipping back as Dick growled against his pulse. “ _Use me_.”

Dick fully intended to. It was the least revenge he could give, for Damian denying him the chance to cause his orgasm.


	166. Are You Lost? (RecklessJokes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "I am seriously disturbed by recklacejokes but I am begging you to write smut on them. I'm very interested, for scientific research"
> 
> I haven't thought much about Damian and the Joker in way too long. The fact that someone brought it up to me the other night on my blog was quite the trip. It was great.

Damian’s cheek dug against the brick wall, as a hand pressed into his hair made a point of grinding his skin against the rough material. Behind him, a slender body was leaning in, against the curve of his back, one hand snaking around him, working at the bottom of his suit.

“Are you lost, little birdie?” the Joker breathed against his ear, those sharp, painted nails digging at his scalp. Stinging, breaking skin. Damian huffed, and his face was rubbed against the brick again. “Ah, ah, ah. We use _words_ here.”

“No,” Damian said, through gritted teeth. He felt fingertips against his skin, just above his pants. The Joker felt as if he was dead, no blood in his fingers at all by how cold they were- by how hot Damian’s skin was.

“No? _No_?” The Joker giggled, leaning in so he could rub himself against Damian’s ass. “Well little birdie, you flew here all alone, and on purpose? Wh-y, you must have had something on your mind, hmmm? Do tell.” He pulled Damian’s head back, fingers so tight in his hair that Damian hissed. When he spoke, the Joker’s voice had dropped, ungodly low, inhuman. “I like it when you talk to me.”

Damian inhaled, through his teeth, could feel the Joker’s erection against his ass. His hand had worked into the bottom of his suit now, palm pressed against his hot skin, just above his cock- fingers spread so that he wasn’t touching it, only framing it.

“Was looking for you,” Damian managed to get out, trying to keep himself from pushing forward or back, to keep himself still. To not give into the Joker’s games just yet. Make him earn it.

“Me? Little ole me? Why, little bat prince, what could you _w-aaant_ with a lowly wench like _meeeee_?” The Joker rocked his hips, and Damian moaned, despite himself, despite his attempts to keep it in. And the Joker _grinned_. His hand slid down, then, grasping the base of Damian’s achingly hard cock, stroking him without pulling him from his suit. “Seems like someone has a bit of a taste for me.” He tugged on Damian’s hair again, licked a strip up along the side of his neck. Despite the chill of his fingers, his tongue was hot, wet. Obscene. “Must be something in your _bat blood_ , boy. Daddy couldn’t ever say no, either.”

Damian squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t- don’t talk about him.” The Joker laughed, a spiraling sound that seemed to echo inside Damian’s skull, as he gave his cock a tight squeeze.

“No? Don’t talk about daddy dearest? But, my little bird, we wouldn’t _be here_ if it wasn’t for him, now would we? After all,” the Joker paused, his voice dropping down again from it’s sing-song high to a terrifying boom, straight from his chest. “You’re just a stand-in for the big bad bat, and I’m just a way to piss him off royally, hmmm? Ain’t that right, sugarplum?” Damian said nothing, and the Joker shoved his face back against the brick, stroking him quickly, without warning.

Damian may have, around anyone else, been ashamed that he was already to a point of near-orgasm. But he’d been hard before he found the Joker, before he even set foot in his known haunting grounds. Just thinking about those painted nails, sharp, overly white teeth- the ugly pull of scars that felt like nothing other under his tongue-

Well, he had been worked up by the time he got to the clown, to say the very least.

“C’mon little birdie,” the Joker huffed, rocking against his ass again, chasing his own arousal, his own desire. “Sing me a song.”

Damian moaned, then, as the Joker’s fist twisted around the head of his cock, thumb rubbing over it. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut and rocked into that hand, little sounds escaping him with each breath, as his orgasm tightened closer, and closer, in his belly. The Joker’s breath was hot, against his ear, his neck, his hand warm now. He scrapped his teeth against the back of Damian’s neck, before biting down, hard- heard enough that his canines punctured skin, copper seeping into his mouth.

Damian hissed, sucked his breath in through his teeth, as his cheek dragged against the brick. As his neck bled. As the Joker dug his nails into his scalp again, twisting his hair painfully around his fingers.

He came to a blur of pain, the kind that had his heart rate rising, blood surging. He came in a rush of pure adrenaline and pleasure, eyes rolling behind his eyelids, as the Joker’s giggles vibrated his skin.

“That’s my favorite bird,” the clown purred, lapping at the puncture wounds that broke Damian’s dark skin. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”

Damian swallowed thickly. They always did.


	167. Damn Right (TimDami)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [elirian](http://elirian.tumblr.com/) asked: "‘we take the same elevator every day and due to a misunderstanding I assumed you didn’t speak english and I’ve been talking to my friend about how hot you are for three weeks and apparently my friend has known from the start but you agreed not to tell me bc you both think its hilarious what the fuck’ au - definitely timdami!"
> 
> I do not even know what sort of setting we have for this AU but who cares because this is great. Probably something where they all work for the same company.

Tim sucked at the straw to his ice coffee as the elevator doors opened, and he stepped on. Stephanie was chatting away about her date from the night prior, as the doors closed and she hit the button for the top floor.

“Think he’ll be on?” Tim asked, around his straw, and Stephanie sighed.

“You weren’t listening at all, were you?”

Tim sucked at the straw. “I was, swear it! But, well, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, ass of a god, you say it every day time he gets off the stupid elevator. I get it.” She elbowed him, grinning. “And take that stupid straw out of your mouth when you talk. Totally rude.”

Tim grinned around it. “Sorry Steph, I like-”

“Things in your mouth. Got that too. Perv.” She elbowed him again, still grinning, as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Tim watched, gripping his straw between his teeth, as a young man stepped on. The same young man, that for the past damn near three weeks, had been riding the elevator at the exact same time as he and Stephanie.

He was pretty, and that felt like an understatement, to Tim. Copper skin and dark hair and eyes that were too blue, but sometimes Tim noticed, in the light of the elevator, they seemed almost jade. He could stare at them for a week and not get sick of it.

He could stare at any of this kid, and not be sick of it.

He couldn’t be that old, maybe nineteen, Tim figured. Which was probably too young for him, but damn if he cared in that moment. Or any of the past moments, over the last few weeks.

Next to him, Stephanie was rolling her eyes, leaning against the railing.

“Death of me,” Tim said, quietly, turning to look at her, as if they were having a casual conversation. Tim had heard him on his phone, once, speaking in a language Tim didn’t understand. And he had otherwise never said a word, on the elevator. Tim figured he didn’t even speak English, which was fine by him. It meant his commentary didn’t have to wait until he got off, usually a few floors before Tim and Stephanie.

“Tim-”

“He’s just so pretty, Steph. Like, press me up against these damn walls and make me scream sort of pretty.” Tim sucked at his coffee. “I’d totally sell my soul to the devil for that.”

Stephanie glanced at the guy, and her lips quirked up into a smile. “Yeah, devil. Maybe you should put a call into him.”

“C’mon Stephanie, just agree with me. His mouth is so pretty.” Tim sighed, tipping his head back slightly, finally letting that stupid straw escape his mouth.

“You need to get laid, Tim.”

“Damn right I do. If it’s by him.” Tim sighed, dreamy-like, and Stephanie rolled her eyes, as the elevator came to a stop. The young man moved to leave, before pausing next to them, eyes shifting to Stephanie for a moment, before glancing at Tim.

“Maybe we can arrange that.”

Tim tensed, head jerking towards the man, who flashed him the kind of smile that was utterly dangerous. He didn’t say another word, simply stepped off the elevator, and the doors shut before Tim could move.

Stephanie burst into laughter.

“Oh fuck me,” Tim muttered, reaching up to rake his hand over his face. “He-”

“Speaks English? Yeah. Probably better than you.” Stephanie grinned, and Tim glared at her.

“You _knew_?!”

A nod. “Uh-huh. I ran into him like, two weeks ago downstairs. We grabbed a drink and chatted for a bit.”

“So he’s old enough to drink?”

“Not legally.” Tim groaned again. Stephanie’s grin held. “He’s a baby Tim, you are so fucked. But whatever, he thinks you’re cute, and he was endlessly amused by your…commentary.”

“He…wait. What?” Tim stared at her, even as the elevator doors opened and they moved off it.

“Yeah. He thinks you’re cute. For once, Tim, your total awkwardness might be working in your favor.” Stephanie tossed her arm around his shoulders, leaning into him as they headed towards their office. “His name’s Damian, by the way. And yes, I have his number. And, double yes, I will set you two up.”

Tim swallowed thickly, biting the straw of his coffee between his teeth nervously. But how could he say no?


	168. Date (JayDick + Tim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Public Mcdonalds bathroom with jaytim? Can be platonic or shippy the prompt is so funny itd be great either way imo!"
> 
> Full prompt: ‘I walked into the public bathroom at a mcdonalds and you’re dangling halfway out of an air vent do I even want to know what you were doing’ au
> 
> I took it a non-shippy route this time!

“I cannot believe you spilled ketchup on me,” Jason yelled over his shoulder, back at Dick, who was chuckling, stuffing fries into his mouth. Jason huffed, letting the door slam shut, turning towards the sink-

And pausing, staring up at the open air vent, and Tim’s upper body, dangling precariously out of it.

“…Tim?”

“Oh. Hi Jason.” Tim grinned, sheepishly. His cheeks were flushed, and Jason wondered how long he had been hanging there.

“Uhm.” He gestured up towards him, “Should I ask?”

“Probably not.”

“Right.” Jason moved towards the sink, turning the water on and looking down at his shirt. Thankfully, it was black, but he was still irritated as he tried to rub the ketchup off with his hands, promptly rinsing them. “You need a hand?”

“…No.” Tim squirmed, and Jason wondered exactly what he was stuck on, up there. “…Okay maybe.”

Jason sighed. “Gimme a sec, babybird.” He grabbed a paper towel, wetting it and rubbing at the spot, until he was satisfied it was as clean as it was going to get. Then, he turned walking under Tim, who could just brush his fingertips against Jason’s shoulders. “What are you stuck on?”

“Some old cabling. Wrapped up around my calf.” Jason reached up, grasping Tim’s arms and pulling, hard. There was a moment of resistance, before Tim cam spilling down on top of Jason, both of them landing on the floor. Thankfully, for Tim, Jason cushioned his fall- though the other groaned loudly, rather unhappy, even if Tim was the smallest of the family.

“Thanks,” Tim said, sprawled out on top of him, as Jason stared up at the ceiling.

“You owe me an explanation, for that.” Tim bit his lip, and Jason huffed. “ _Tim_.”

“It’s just that I knew Dick had convinced you to go to that movie and I know him and if you’re out he’s going to ask for fries and I know this was the closest to the theater and all and you’re just really cute together and I just wanted to sneak a peek and see if maybe the date was going well and-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Date?” Jason sat up, jostling Tim so the younger nearly spilled from his lap. He had said his entire confession in a single breath, and Jason wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.

“Uh, yeah. Date.” Oh, he had.

“It’s not a date, Tim.” It was just a trip to the movies. Sure, Dick had linked his arm in Jason’s on the trip in. Had held his hand at points, but he was Dick, he was just touchy-feely. And sure, Dick had slipped his hand into Jason’s back pocket when they walked out, made a comment about his ass-

But well, that was all in good fun, right?

“It’s definitely not a date,” Jason said, again, more to himself, and Tim just grinned.

“Oh, it’s so a date Jaybird.” He folded his arms, looking triumphant, and Jason frowned.

“We’re at a fucking McDonalds so he can get his artery clogging fry addiction fix. It’s not a date.”

“But the movies were!” Jason huffed- but had no response. Tim continued to look smug.

Jason hesitated another moment, before narrowing his eyes. “Wait, you think Dick and I are…cute together?”

“Well duh. Everyone does. We’re just waiting for you two to come out to us. So far you’ve taken way longer than Steph thought.” Jason blinked.

“…Does the whole family just…make bets on this?”

“Yeah. If you two don’t come out soon, I’m gonna end up stuck wearing the damn Batgirl suit, so how about you guys come home and make out or something? I swear, I’ll only take one picture.” Tim grinned up at him, and Jason was torn between laughing at the teen, and shoving him back up in that air vent.

Instead, he simply shoved Tim off his lap- gently- and stood up, brushing his jeans off. “You know, I think I’d like to see you in the Batgirl suit.”

Tim’s face fell. “Dammit, Jason, c’mon-”

“Yeah, I _definitely_ want to see that.” He grinned, walking towards the door. “Gotta go Tim, apparently I have a date to get back to.”

Jason left him in there, fighting down the urge to laugh. He was sure Tim’s face was priceless. He contemplated telling Dick about it- but well, there was something satisfying about keeping it to himself.

Mostly because now it really had felt like a date, and if Dick hadn’t meant that, he didn’t want to shatter the illusion. After all, he was Dick Grayson after all- and Jason wasn’t _blind_.


	169. First Day (JJay)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: "Can that 'awful AU' be Jason and Joker but also 'no capes AU' geez you got me thinking about this pairing now how dare u mads"
> 
> The awful AU was: “Hi, I’m your neighbor from one door down. I made you this casserole to welcome you to the building and also I need to tell you about the guy that lives between us. We’re all pretty sure he’s a serial killer, so if he ever asks you to come inside to see his cats…well…he doesn’t have any cats.” AU
> 
> But is the Joker (Jack, I always call him Jack) the neighbor, or the killer??? Well. I’m going with the possible serial killer. Because reasons. Also this suddenly became like, the actual beginning to an AU. Also…what is the ship name? JJay? I think it should be JJay.

Jason shifted through the box he had on his kitchen counter, filled with wrapped plates and cups. He forgot what a pain moving could be, was sure it would take the rest of the damn year to get everything unpacked. It felt like it had taken months just to get everything into the new apartment.

There was a knock at his door, and he stopped. Hesitated a moment, considered not bothering- but that was rude, and he really didn’t need to get off on the wrong foot with anyone here. Besides, maybe it was Roy. Maybe he’d left something in his truck.

He headed for the door, undoing the chain lock and opening it.

Nope, not Roy. A rather pretty young man, smiling at Jason casually. “Hi,” he offered, “I’m Tim. Your neighbor, two doors down.” He extended his hand, and Jason took it, giving it a shake.

“Jason,” he offered, and then, a minute later, “Uhm, do you wanna come in?” Tim smiled, and Jason stepped aside, letting him slip inside. “Sorry it’s a mess. I just got everything up here.”

“I saw, you and that redhead.” Tim followed him towards the small living room, and Jason slumped down on the couch. “Is he…”

“Boyfriend? Ex, actually. Reason for the move. Good terms though.” Tim nodded.

“Still, not fun. Well, if you need help, like I said, I’m two doors down. My boyfriend is pretty good at heavy lifting.” Tim smiled, and Jason let himself chuckle. “I don’t wanna keep you, I’m sure you’re busy. I just…well. Wanted to tell you something.” Tim reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is gonna sound crazy, but the guy that leaves in 3C, between us? Just uh, be careful around him.”

“He cause trouble?” Last thing Jason needed was trouble. He didn’t exactly have a clean record, and he knew if he got himself into trouble, he could probably kiss his current job for the city goodbye.

“Well. It’s…complicated.” Tim sighed. “We’re all pretty sure he’s a serial killer, but we don’t have the, you know, hard evidence. But trust me, there’s like, no way he’s not. So just, if he asks you to come in to see his cats…well, he doesn’t have any cats.”

Jason stared at Tim, and for a moment, felt like laughing. Except that Tim’s face was deathly serious. He wasn’t sure if the man was crazy, or living in terror.

“Uhm, okay. Sure.” Tim flushed a little, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I just wanted you to know. I know it’s not really the…welcome speech anyone wants to hear and all.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Listen, I’ll let you get back to unpacking. But I’m serious, I’m just down the hall. If you need help with something, stop by. Kon and I would be more than happy to help.” Jason nodded, pushing himself up, walking Tim towards the door.

Once he was gone, Jason really wasn’t sure if he should laugh over his odd neighbor- or be concerned that he was suddenly living in some sort of horror movie.

*

He puffed on his cigarette, letting his head fall back, exhaling. It was chilly outside, but Jason didn’t want to hang half out his window to smoke- his lease had specified no smoking inside, which sucked majorly- and well, the air felt nice. He’d been trying to unpack all day and felt like he’d made no progress, at all.

He took another drag, eyes falling shut for a moment, before suddenly, “Well, aren’t you a pretty one.”

Jason jerked back, eyes snapping open, meeting a set that was far too green. Like someone had dropped neon into an iris. The man who had spoken- must have spoken- was standing suddenly very close to him, hands stuffed into the pockets of his purple jeans, watching him.

“Excuse me?”

“New?” Jason glanced at the apartment complex, before shrugging a shoulder.

“Yeah. Moved in today.” He glanced back at the man, at the mess of green loose curls that frames his face. He was pale- paler than Jason figured a person could be, but it didn’t seem to make him look ill. If anything, it was doll like- especially with the curve of his overly-red lips, the sharp jut of his cheek bones.

Pretty, in the strangest way possible.

“Well, welcome to heaven,” the man offered, “I’m Jack.”

“You the gate keeper?” Jack giggled at that, and Jason wasn’t sure if he meant it sarcastically, or if he had meant to hit on this stranger.

He and Roy had been over for almost two months now- even if he was only just now moving out. And well, Jason hadn’t had any real _company_ in that time-

And this dude had just called him pretty.

And Jason did like them a little strange.

Without much thought, Jason held out his cigarette, watched Jack’s eyes flick to it. He leaned in- not taking it, but wrapping his lips around it, inhaling, before he pulled off and tipped his head back, exhaling up into the air.

Jason felt his groin ache, and okay, maybe this guy was flirting back because damn.

“You live here too?” Jason asked, pressing his mouth over the lipstick stains Jack had left behind. He nodded.

“Oh I do. _Charming_ little place, if you find the right dusty corners.”

“Seems like it’s full of…character.” Jason took one final, deep drag, before flicking his cigarette away. He wasn’t sure if he was talking about Tim, from earlier, or the mystery man next door who _might just be a serial killer_ , or Jack himself, standing there in front of him.

Jack giggled again, before reaching out, linking his arm in Jason’s. “Let me walk you inside, cupcake.” Jason didn’t argue, heading into the old building, up two flights of stairs, to the third floor. Jack didn’t let go of his arm as they stepped off, and Jason wondered if he lived on this floor as well, or if he was simply following Jason.

“I’m here,” Jason offered, stopping at his door. Jack untangled from his arm, giving him a grin.

“Well then, I guess that makes us neighbors.” He winked, walking down the hall- stopping at 3C and fishing a key out of his pocket. “I guess I’ll be seeing a lot of you, handsome.” He unlocked the door, and Jason watched, as he stepped inside, before leaning back out, and offering with a grin that both twisted Jason’s gut and made his blood run hot, “Oh, and if you ever get lonesome, sugar, give my door a knock. My kitties and I are just the _snuggling type_.” He winked again, before disappearing, the door slamming shut.

Jason stared for a moment, before reaching up, raking a hand down over his face. Well, shit.

What a first fucking day.


	170. Whatever I Did (JayDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [divianathewickling](http://divianathewickling.tumblr.com/) asked: "JayDick. Where Jason thinks Dick is mad at him because he did something when he was drunk last night and can't remember it. Jason being extra sweet on Dick try to make up for it while he tries to figure out how he fucked up last night. Every time he tries to subtly figure out what happened Dick reacts strangely so Jay thinks he really pissed Dick piss off. In the end, Jay finds out that Dick was just embarrassed because he kept thinking of how Jay keep sayings how much he loved Dick."

Jason glanced at Dick, as the older man stepped into the Manor’s kitchen. Dick wouldn’t meet his gaze, opening the fridge quickly, grabbing a water bottle, and making a point to leave without a word. Jason frowned, tapping his fingers on the counter.

He’d been doing that all day. Avoiding him, acting like he couldn’t get out of the room fast enough if Jason was there.

Jason sighed. He couldn’t remember exactly what he’d done, the night prior- but he must have fucked up, royally. Which wouldn’t shock him- he had a pension for that, he knew. And well, it was bound to happen around Dick sometime soon. Considering the strange sort of middle ground they seemed to be in, with whatever-they-had-going.

He left the kitchen, heading out towards the back, found Dick sitting on the large back porch, a book in his lap. The large cushioned bench he sat on could fit two easily, and when Jason stepped out, he made his way to it, settling in at the other end, giving Dick a little space.

“Reading anything good?” he asked, and Dick glanced up, before looking back at the book, hard. Like it might crawl away.

“Just something Babs suggested.” Jason nodded. He expected that Dick would’ve launched into all the reasons why Barbara had suggested it to him, what had happened down to the sentence he had stopped on, and probably whatever conversation he had had with Babs prior to the recommendation, and after.

After all, he was Dick. He talked. Jason complained about it, but he found it endearing.

Except now he was utterly quiet. Did it have to do with Babs? Had Jason said something about her, the night prior? Oh lord, had he made jokes about she and Dick’s past relationship? Had he acted jealous-

“Where is everyone anyway?” Jason forced out, instead, “It’s a nice day.”

“Tim doesn’t want to come out of his room,” Dick said, not looking up from the page. Jason scooted closer.

Did it have to do with Tim? Oh lord, he hadn’t gotten drunk enough to make out with him, had he? Wouldn’t be the first time, but well…since he’d started to get a little more serious with Dick, that sort of thing had stopped. Didn’t really matter that Tim had been with Kon during those little mishaps, he and Kon had been together forever Jason swore, and seemed to have some sort of understanding about what was okay, and what wasn’t-

But he and Dick? This was all too new for him to run off and make out with their babybird.

“He’s hungover,” Dick finally said, rolling his eyes a little.

Was Dick simply angry that Jason had gotten so drunk? Was that it? Had he just been annoying?

“Maybe I should see if he need anything.” Jason fished for his phone in his pocket, shifting closer to Dick in the process. “Do you need anything?”

“Hmm? No.” Dick shook his head, flipping the page. Jason hesitated, before sliding even closer, until their thighs were brushing- and felt Dick tense, for a moment.

Okay, he definitely had done something bad, then.

“Listen, Dick,” he started, awkwardly shuffling his phone from one hand to the other. “Last night. Whatever I did, I’m so sorry.” Dick looked up at that.

“What-”

“And I feel fucking terrible that I can’t even remember, but I honestly don’t.”

“You’re sorry?” Jason nodded, sucking on his tongue, watching as Dick paused, before closing his book, setting it aside.

“Jason.” He hesitated, licked his lips, “Jay, you…you don’t need to be sorry.”

Well, that wasn’t what he expected. “I don’t?” Dick shook his head.

“No, you…you didn’t do anything wrong. Just…” He sighed, reached up to rub the back of his neck. “You kept…saying things.” Dick shifted, so his back was against the arm of the bench, one leg folded over it. Facing Jason.

“Things?”

“…You said you loved me.” Dick rubbed his hands on his thighs. “A lot.” Jason flushed, over that, the color washing along his freckled cheeks. He glanced away, down towards the wooden porch.

“…Oh.” Yeah, he could see why Dick was upset. That was pushing things, he was sure. They weren’t at that point yet… were they? Jason wasn’t sure. And he knew he’d be lying if he denied what he said, but well- he understood Dick might not be ready to hear that yet.

“And I just keep thinking about it, when I see you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re not ready to hear that yet. I hope I didn’t mess this up?” Jason glanced back up- and Dick was furrowing his brow.

“Not ready to…Jason. I’m not mad.” He reached out, gripped at Jason’s tshirt, pulling him in. “I’m just…it’s stupid.” He chuckled to himself, leaning up, so that when he spoke, the words ghosted over Jason’s mouth. “I just get butterflies thinking about it. Like a damn schoolkid.”

Jason didn’t move, even the first moment when Dick closed the gap, kissed him. Didn’t move as Dick’s arm was going around his shoulder, warm olive skin pressing against the back of his neck-

He did move, finally, when Dick leaned back, nearly dragging Jason with him, so that he fell onto him. He kissed him then, felt Dick laughing into his mouth.

“I can’t believe you thought you did something wrong,” he whispered, as Jason reached up, brushed Dick’s bangs from his eyes.

“To be fair, I’m very good at doing things wrong.”

“Jason Peter Todd, I should slap you.”

Jason grinned. “Or you could kiss me again.”

That got him an honest smile. “I like that idea even more.”


	171. Doorstep (BruDick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Anon asked: ""found you on the roof of my house passed out with a black eye holding a fire extinguisher’ au" BruDick pls"

“Alfred, god, it’s five AM,” Dick mumbled, holding his phone to his cheek. It’s insistent vibrating him had woken up, and seeing Alfred’s name had been enough for him to answer.

“I know, and I apologize Master Richard. But Master Bruce has not returned from patrol.” That had Dick sitting up. It was late, way too late for Bruce to still be out- not without updating Alfred.

“I can suit up and be out there in ten minutes-”

“I do not believe that will be necessary. The tracking in his suit tells me he is already at your location, sir.”

“My…” Dick paused, shaking his head. He still felt half asleep.

“Perhaps if you would check the roof.”

Oh, yeah. “Uhm, sure. I’ll call you in a few, okay?”

“Thank you kindly.”

Dick ended the call, crawling out of bed. He found his sweatpants, discarded on the floor, and hopped into them, shoving his phone in his pockets, before leaving his room. He had his own private entrance to the roof- which was probably the best perk of the penthouse- and he took the stairs barefoot, two at a time.

He flipped the security code pad open at the top, typing it in, waited a moment for the door to unlock. As soon as it did, he was throwing it open, stepping out into the last dregs of the night, the sky faded velvet, threatening the glow of coming sunrise.

Sure enough, there was Bruce. At least, Dick thought it was him. Didn’t know of anyone else that might he left in a heap on his roof in a batsuit.

He rushed over, crouching down when he reached him, gripping at his shoulder. He pushed, carefully, until Bruce rolled onto his side. Unconscious.

 _Aw, hell_.

Dick rolled him fully onto his back, grabbing one arm to shove it off his chest where it had landed, limply. He was clutching something- a fire extinguisher? Dick furrowed his brow, but pulled it from his grasp, shoving it away.

“Bruce,” he said, softly, both hands moving to his shoulders and shaking gently. “Dammit, you stupid Bat. Open your eyes.” He frowned, shook harder, and Bruce groaned, tipping his head back. A moment, and his eyes opened, one lens of the cowl broken. Dick sighed, relieved, as Bruce sat up, wincing and reaching a hand up to hold his head. “Jeez, you know how to scare a guy.”

Bruce glanced at him, and Dick stood up, holding his hand out.

“C’mon, we are not staying on the roof.” Without a word, Bruce accepted Dick’s hand, let him help him up- resisted only when Dick tried to get him to lean against him.

“I’m fine.”

“Says the guy who was passed out on my rooftop,” Dick paused, glancing down at the fire extinguisher. “ _With that_.”

“Grab it,” Bruce said, “I need it.”

Dick didn’t question it- as badly as he wanted to- only listened, stooping down to pick it up, before leading Bruce back to the doorway. He punched in the code, and the door opened, allowing them both into the stairwell.

Once back in the penthouse, Dick was steering Bruce towards his room. He flicked the light on, had to actually push Bruce towards the bed.

“Suit off,” he said, and Bruce only frowned at him.

“Dick-”

“I said, suit off.” He set the fire extinguisher down, forcing Bruce to sit on the edge of the bed. He worked the cowl back himself, revealed a black eye where the broken lens to the cowl had been. Bruce had a nice cut on his cheek, as well. “Bruce-”

“Minor damage. I hit my head, that was the only problem.”

“What happened?”

“A run in with Scarecrow’s men. Flash grenade blinded me enough that they got a few good hits in.” Bruce sighed. “My head is ringing.”

“I’ll get you something.” Dick was gone from the room, down the stairs and to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass, filled it from the tap, and pulled down a bottle of pain killers, spilling a few into his palm. Back up, and when he found Bruce, the man had at least begun to listen- his gauntlets, cowl, cape, along with the pieces of the top of his suit, were all piled on the floor.

Dick walked over, dropped the pills into Bruce’s hand- watched him take them dry before he could even offer the water. Bruce tried to shake his head, but Dick frowned.

“You’ve been out there all night. Drink the damn water.” Dick’s voice was firm- annoyed, even. He was tired, wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed- and, more so, he was worried.

He was always worried about Bruce.

Bruce caved, after a moment, taking it and downing half the glass. When he passed it back to Dick, the younger man set it aside, before reaching up, brushing his fingers back through Bruce’s short hair.

“Want to explain a little? How’d you end up here?”

Bruce was quiet for a moment, before, “I knew I was going to pass out.” Dick paused, before he sighed.

“And you figured my doorstep was the best place to do that?” Bruce gave a single nod, and Dick crawled up onto the bed, forcing Bruce to shift back slightly, so he could straddle his lap. “Sometimes I hate you,” he offered, letting his fingers move along the bruise forming around Bruce’s eye.

But Bruce hadn’t been wrong. It wasn’t as if Dick wouldn’t have found him, have taken him in. It also wasn’t like this was the first time this had happened.

“What’s with the fire extinguisher?” Dick continued.

“A sample. Crane was moving a truck full of them, when I intercepted. Fear toxin. I believe he means to disrupt them around the city, in key buildings. Banks, schools, hospitals- courts, perhaps. Have his men start small fires, and release the toxin. Controlled chaos that will seem random, and set the city into wide panic. They won’t know where the insanity is stemming from.”

“Clever.” Dick leaned back slightly, let his eyes jump from Bruce’s own to his lips, his chin-

His collar bone.

“Finish getting out of that suit and get in the shower. I’ll call Alfred and let him know you’re alright, and have him contact the GCPD. Steph and Tim can suit back up and go out if need be, to make sure we isolate where they were delivered to. I’m assuming you got a tracker on it?” Bruce nodded. “Perfect. Alfred will know every stop it made.”

“Dick-”

“Do not fight me on this,” Dick said, stern. As if he somehow had that sort of power over Bruce-

As if, once Bruce had been the child, and not Dick.

“You might have a concussion,” he continued, “You’re staying here. I need to make sure you don’t fall asleep.”

Bruce quirked one brow at that. “Oh? And how are you going to do that.” Dick grinned, and Bruce’s lips curled into a smile, as the younger let one hand curl back, around the nape of his neck.

“Sure I can think of plenty of ways,” he offered, before leaning in, pecking Bruce’s lips. “But shower first. It’ll help you relax, and not smell like a damn bat.”

Bruce huffed a laugh, and Dick couldn’t help but continue to grin.


	172. Princess (TimKon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [scarletcloack](http://scarletcloack.tumblr.com/) asked: "If you are still doing prompts can I asked for some jaydick or timkon "dropped you while you were crowd surfing" it can be shippy if you want."
> 
> Full prompt: ‘I accidentally dropped you while you were crowd surfing and you broke your ankle and now I feel responsible so I’m carrying you out of the moshpit’ au

“Ow! Kon, careful!” Tim winced, his ankle aching, as his boyfriend jostled him in his arms, trying to hold him closer to his chest.

“Sorry, sorry!” He wanted to simply fly them away from the concert, but they weren’t in costume- and well, he knew Tim wouldn’t appreciate having his identity revealed. So he was attempting to move through the crowd, away from the stage.

Tim clung tighter, trying to keep his body as close to Kon’s as possible, to take up as little space as possible. He didn’t want to admit it- hadn’t to Kon yet- but he was fairly sure his ankle was broken. He’d done it before, and the pain felt about the same.

He hadn’t thought the fall had been that bad, but the landing had been so utterly botched, he could believe it. _Stupid, should’ve just let yourself fall_.

Kon managed to get away from the crowd, heading back towards the rows of seats. One of the back rows was deserted, and he managed to settle Tim in one, getting down on the ground and lifting his leg.

“Kon-”

“I gotta see how bad it is,” he started, running his hands down Tim’s leg.

“Kon-”

“It’ll just take a second-”

“Kon, it’s broke-” Tim’s word cut off, hissing as Kon’s hands pressed to his ankle. His boyfriend pulled back, and Tim tipped his head back, exhaling. Maybe broken worse than he had thought. Tim took a moment, before straightening up, saying again, calmly, “It’s broken.”

“Babe, I’m so sorry.” Kon sighed. “I should have gotten a hold of you. It was my idea to get you crowd surfing anyway.” Which was true, and Tim could agree to that. He hadn’t really wanted to, but he was small, easy to lift, and Kon seemed to want them to experience the concert to the fullest of their abilities-

Well, Tim could say this was definitely an experience.

“It’s okay,” Tim offered, “I mean, you didn’t mean it. Besides, I shouldn’t have tried to catch myself.” He laughed, breathy, slightly pained. “Not a smooth landing.”

Kon smiled, slightly. “Not at all.”

“Just get me to the car? Get us back to the tower, and maybe fly me home? Alfred can set this without a problem.” Tim pushed his hair back from his face. “Gonna have to be off it for a while though.”

“Damn, it’s always more fun with you on the field.”

“Kon, you spend all your time staring at my ass when we’re in the field.”

That earned him a sheepish grin. “What can I say? That suit is a miracle.” Tim huffed, leaning forward and grabbing his boyfriend by the collar of his tshirt, tugging him in.

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim offered, “and I love you.” Kon leaned up, pressed a kiss to the bridge of Tim’s nose.

“I love you too. Thanks for not threatening to have your brothers kick my ass for this.”

“Oh, I can’t control what they do when they hear you didn’t catch me.” Kon’s cheeks tinged pink, and Tim swore he actually looked nervous. It was priceless. He smiled, to himself, as Kon straightened up, managed to scoop him back up into his arms. “You know, maybe you should carry me around, until it heals. It might persuade me to put in a good word for you with them, at least.”

Kon gave him a squeeze, and Tim leaned his head down against his shoulder, working to ignore the sparking ache in his ankle. He’d had worse.

“Whatever you want, princess,” Kon teased, and after a quick look to make sure no one was around, he hopped up into the air, flying over the gates, out towards the cars. Tim clung tighter, leaning in to bite at his ear lobe.

“That’s Princess with a capital _P_ ,” he warned, as his boyfriend let out a breathy chuckle.

Yeah, being laid up for a bit wouldn’t be that bad.

**Author's Note:**

> You can always check my [Tumblr](http://madnizilla.tumblr.com/) to see what sort of prompts I'm accepting!


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